


Levament

by AgentCoop



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ash Lynx Lives, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Ash Lynx, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom Blanca, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Gunplay, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Master Blanca teaches Eiji how to please Ash, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Rope Bondage, Sex Toys, Tears, The happy ending Ash and Eiji deserve, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Okumura Eiji, Violence, Weapons Kink, everything is consensual!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-01-24 14:45:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18573631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentCoop/pseuds/AgentCoop
Summary: It’s in the darkest black of night that Eiji whispers it, as he comes undone at the simple stroke of Ash’s fingertips.“I’ll do anything for you.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for BF RarePair week Day 7: Past/Present/Future and Clocks.
> 
> Will update throughout the week!

It’s in the darkest black of night that Eiji whispers it, as he comes undone at the simple stroke of Ash’s fingertips.

“I’ll do anything for you.”

Ash doesn’t pause in his ministrations. Instead, he smiles, a delighted boyish thing. “I’d never ask that,” he says. His eyes are closed, his breath tickles the shell of Eiji’s ear. He’s so slow and gentle in his strokes that Eiji wants to scream with it.

Instead he groans. “Anything, Ash. Anything.”

He’s still repeating those syllables as Ash strokes him to completion, holds him through his orgasm, whispers in his ear with feathered breath: “Beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful.”

***

_“I’ll do anything for you.”_

This statement lays buried between them through the rest of the night and into the next morning. Eiji considers voicing it again when the sun rises outside their window and creeps through the shades, spreading over them in a thick, buttery gold. But as Ash wakes, eye fluttering with barely brimming consciousness, Eiji can’t bring himself to state it again. It is something he knows from the depths of his heart, from the very bottom of his being. He will do anything and Ash doesn’t have to believe this because it is a simple truth.

Instead, somewhat surprisingly, it’s Ash that brings it up; over stir-fried vegetables, rice, and copious amounts of wine. 

“Anything?” He asks, a stray lock of golden blond falling across his brow.

“What?” Eiji asks. He is already delightfully warm and giddy with alcohol.

“Anything?” Ash repeats. “You’d do anything for me?”

Eiji laughs at the question, but there is something more here. Something to be prodded at, something to be uncovered and studied, carefully. “Of course!” He finally settles on. “I am nothing without you.”

“False,” Ash mutters. “We are nothing without each other.”

This is delightfully morose and Eiji quirks another smile, smaller this time. “How very romantic of you,” he replies, but inside he is pleased. He reaches a hand across the table and places it atop Ash’s, stilling the tapping, rhythmic beat of his fingertips, his frenetic motion. Then he waits until Ash looks up at him.

“Anything,” Eiji says. It is simple and somber yet full of unspoken promise.

The vanishing sun dips even lower on the horizon, bathing their small kitchen in a deep pink glow. It starts as a flicker, then spreads further, igniting joy in Eiji’s chest. 

Ash is smiling.

***

Later still, as they stand together at the kitchen sink, washing dishes and swaying in gentle, rolling motions to the soft beat of the jazz that echoes through the speakers in the living room, Ash tries once more.

“Would you consider letting…I mean we used to…it’s kind of complicated but…”

Ash stutters and Eiji is puzzled by this side of him. This is a side he rarely sees. A side that is insecure, full of self-doubt, carefully testing each step forward with bated breath.

He swallows and tries again. “Blanca. He…I…we…”

“Yes,” Eiji says.

Ash’s past is not a secretive thing. No, it is a thing to be poked and a thing to be prodded, forcing out the foulness and toxic black so that new memories can take root and grow in their place, healing and virginal and clean.

Still, this is a secret Ash hadn’t parted with yet—something he’d held close to his chest, cradled in protective arms. It is because of the carefulness with which Ash has guarded this secret that Eiji knows how important it truly is. 

“You…” Ash starts. He shakes his head, eyes on the ground. “I haven’t told you what I’m asking yet.”

“Anything.” Eiji repeats. He has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“Letting Blanca…with us…”

“Have sex?” Eiji questions. He is straight forward. Uncomplicated. He can blame his Japanese upbringing, or he can blame his obsessive tendencies or he can sometimes blame the fact that there has to be some piece of the puzzle to balance out Ash’s crazy and he seems to fit quite perfectly. “You want Blanca to join us, yes?”

Ash looks up, but doesn’t look directly in his eyes. Instead, he stares just past Eiji’s left shoulder, as if the answer to some burning question is hanging there, waiting to be plucked. “I…”

Eiji grabs ahold of Ash’s shoulders, forcing their eyes to catch. “Anything Ash. Of course, invite Blanca.” He rises on the balls of his feet then, his nose almost brushing Ash’s and reaches to tangle his hand in blond hair. He pulls Ash to himself and kisses him deeply, and as Ash inhales in surprise, Eiji can feel the gasp of air leave his own mouth. They stay like this, deeply interwoven, tasting the tannins of the wine on each other’s tongues, breathing only want and desire and sex. Finally, Eiji sinks back down, leaving Ash with his eyes still closed, his lips swollen, darkly loved. “Of course,” Eiji says one more time, as though perhaps Ash didn’t understand the first, or the second, or even the third. _Of course, of course, of course._

Ash opens his eyes then, glimmering, baleful, and green, and he cups his palms around Eiji’s face. “I love you.” He says. “I love only you.”

Eiji shrugs. “I know this.Besides. Blanca is a dreamboat.” 

Ash cocks his head at this, and a moment later bursts out with a gale of laughter. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

“A…dreamboat?” Eiji repeats, now not as certain. “Is that not the right word? The word for someone who is attractive? Who I wouldn’t mind…well…fucking?”

Ash laughs and laughs and laughs, and Eiji’s nose wrinkles in irritation. “What?”

“Dreamboat,” Ash says. “Oh my god, I can’t wait to tell him you said that.”

***

The next day start the same as any other. They wake up, Ash groans, Eiji cajoles, and after an unnecessary amount of time spent listening to varying complaints about the fragility of Ash’s lungs in the brisk, chilly air, and the unceasing weight of gravity in the mornings. Then they leave their small apartment and start to run. Sometimes this is a short twenty minute venture, just up to central park, barely touching upon the inside paths, then back. Sometimes it is a meandering thing, slow, steady, a press of their bodies against the ebbing flow of the city. They never speak while they run, no, instead this is an activity that is best left to the aching grasp of solitude. 

It’s when they return, gasping, limbs aching, shoulders hunched over bodies like bent and broken old men, that the morning veers into territory far more interesting.

“You need to fill out a checklist.”

Eiji looks over to Ash in slight alarm. This sounds clinical. This sounds sterile. This sounds like the opposite of a good time. “What fun,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Anything, Ash. I told you.”

“No,” Ash says.

This is a hard enough sound to split molecules, and Eiji unfolds himself, standing up and stretching his arms behind his head. He can smell himself, and he can smell Ash, and it is the thick, feral scent of two bodies that have worked, of muscles that are lean, of skin that stretches perfectly over sinew and bone. “I’m easy, Ash,” he starts.

“No, Eiji.” 

Ash starts up the steps to their apartment, so Eiji follows, curious as to where this conversation is going.

Ash turns the key in the lock and pushes inside, before speaking again. “If we are going to do this, then we are going to do it correctly. You are going to fill out a checklist. You are going to name your boundaries. You are absolutely going to have a safe word and you are going to tell me if anything, and I mean _anything_ , makes you uncomfortable. You understand? It needs to be done correctly.”

There is a fervor in Ash’s eyes that is striking and Eiji fights the almost overwhelming desire he suddenly has to scatter the moment like leaves in the wind and pull Ash down to the ground, licking, and kissing, and touching every single square inch of skin. Instead he swallows, then nods. “Ok. Ok, I’ll fill out your checklist.”

“Good,” Ash says. He doesn’t seem to notice the way Eiji is staring at him with deep, lust filled eyes. 

Eiji’s cheeks start to flush with it, with need. “You need to fill one out also. With me. I need to know your wants, and your desires.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Ash says. “Blanca knows everything.”

“Ash,” Eiji growls. It is low. Full of warning. Ash looks up in alarm. “I deserve to know what you desire.”

“Oh!” This bursts from Ash’s lips as though he hadn’t ever even considered Eiji’s statement a possibility. “Oh. Of course! I mean, Shit, I’m sorry, Eiji. That came out so wrong. Of course you deserve to know, you’re always first, you’re everything, you’re—”

Eiji pressed his fingers to Ash’s lips, quieting him. “I know what I am to you, Ash. I just wanted to remind you what you are to me. I trust Blanca. But I want to know as well.”

Ash nods at that. “Of course. Then…lists?”

“Lists.”

***

They spend hours on the damn check lists, and the entire time Eiji is half hard, desperate to throw himself on top of Ash. They laugh through some of it. The very idea of mummification seems so over the top that Eiji rolls off the couch in a fit of giggles while Ash chastises him with a finger for not taking it seriously. Eiji whips his leg forward though and hooks it around Ash’s and soon they are both lying in a heap on the floor, tumbling, and kicking, and fighting and soon enough kissing.

It’s what Eiji wanted in the first place so he isn’t entirely concerned with the forty minute break in the middle of negotiations.

When they return, things take on a darker note. Ash is staunchly against blindfolds. He goes white as Eiji even reads it from the list. So that is a clear check in the no column, and despite Ash assuring Eiji that Blanca knows this and would never abuse it, Eiji feels better for having learned this about his partner. 

When they get to the voyeurism, they are both on the same page. No filming. No cameras of any sort. Yet the idea of public sex excites each of them, and Eiji has to excuse himself for a moment for a very large and very cold glass of ice water. When he comes back, Ash moves on to the ‘sexual activity’ section. 

“Cumming on your partner,” he reads, 

and Eiji whispers, “yes.” 

“Forced masturbation” he reads, 

and Eiji whispers even quieter, “yes.” 

“Rimming,” he reads, 

and Eiji shoots up from his seat again. “Yes,” he says, then “I need another glass of water.”

Ash glances over him predatorily, eyes stopping on the rather fantastic looking bulge emerging from Eiji’s gym shorts. “If we finish,” he says, “I’ll make you cum so hard you’ll—”

“Jesus Christ, Ash, I—”

“Sit down, Eiji.”

Eiji eyes him warily.

“Sit. Down. Eiji.” This order comes more forcefully, more fantastically square, as though each word is a rock, dropped onto the serene glassiness of an unspoiled lake. 

Eiji sits again.

Ash carefully sets the lists down on the coffee table in front of them, then picks up his phone. “Lists are done. You’re filthy, you know? I like it.”

Eiji can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, to the bridge of his nose, to the tips of his ears. It _was_ an absolutely filthy exercise in vocabulary and yet, he has absolutely no regrets. He scoots even closer to Ash, lays a hand on the flat of Ash’s thigh and slowly pushes upwards. The silky smoothness of Ash’s athletic shorts rise under the friction, leaving an expanse of perfectly pale skin. He lets his fingers drift slowly over the soft, golden white hairs there, pushes up even further to where he can feel the crease of Ash’s thigh, meeting coarser hair, cupping his palm around Ash’s balls. 

Ash is hard as well. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, as Ash holds the phone up to his ear.

Ash holds up a finger then, silencing Eiji. He waits a few beats, then, “Hey. It’s been a while.” He listens for a moment, the phone pressed tightly against his ear. Then,

“I’ve got a proposition for you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. Clearly I suck at waiting and posting things in reasonable, timely progression.
> 
> Here's the true rare pair(s). SO hope you enjoy. I'm off to take a blazingly cold shower now ;)

They’d made the plans for a Saturday evening—after all of Ash’s deadlines were met for the paper he worked at, and during Eiji’s weekend. Eiji had figured that having the full day together before the ‘main event’ would be a nice change of pace. They could clean the apartment. Eat a nice lunch together. Maybe go for a longer run then usual, maybe flip on the television and blast some music so loudly through the apartment that the walls vibrated and the floors cracked and their eardrums screeched in heavenly fervor.

Instead, he spends the entire day with his stomach in knots.

He moves from task to task, not entirely focused, barely doing the minimum of what is required. He washes the dishes, and wipes over them carefully with a dish rag, but he forgets to use soap. He decides to empty the large bookshelf by their bed and distribute everything into piles of ‘must keep because the words inside contain life affirming sentiments’ and ‘donate to some organization because it’s improbable that we will ever find need to reference these contents.’ Then he painstakingly organizes the remaining spines by genre, then sub genre, then alphabetically. Ash is rather perturbed by this entire activity, and with a heady sniff of arrogance, he carefully piles his Hemingway and Dickens and hauls them to his bedside table to escape the purge.

Ash is nervous too. Eiji can see it in the way he moves on their morning jog—intense, purposeful, faster than normal. He can see it in the way he throws himself into the armchair by the kitchen—his sprawling limbs holding tension taut enough to pluck. In the way his grip on the novel he was reading is a frigid white, and the way his eyes move back and forth over the same lines, again and again and again.

At quarter till five, Ash suddenly jumps up from the armchair like a frightened deer and announces in an overly loud, definitive voice that he is taking a shower.

Eiji listens to the water as it runs, a roaring, steady thing. There is an uneasy tingle in the pit of his stomach that isn’t entirely unpleasant. The palms of his hands are sweaty.

At precisely 6:17 on the Dali wall clock that hangs from the far wall of their living room, the sound of a knock comes from the front door. 

Eiji stills, nerves humming in anticipation.

Then Ash appears, clean, pink, and smelling of the slight sweetness of almonds. He pauses for a moment by Eiji, then reaches out a hand and tangles his fingers behind Eiji’s head, in his long, dark hair. He draws Eiji close, pressing his mouth against Eiji’s left ear. 

“I love you,” he whispers.

Eiji’s stomach is bursting from the wild flight of butterflies that fight for freedom.

Ash disappears down the hallway.

There is a murmur of voices that travel back to Eiji as Ash presumably opens the front door and invites their guest inside. 

It only takes a moment for them to make it back to the living room. Ash is leading, but there is something new in the set of his shoulders. A hidden tension, a smaller gait. A lynx poised to pounce. He’s watching the floor now, not looking anywhere but his feet. 

Blanca towers over him.

It’s been some time since Eiji last saw the man. He knows that Blanca has taken an ordinary desk job for the New York Police department, under Charlie of all people, and has seemingly finally settled somewhere for longer than a week or two. He knows that Blanca feels the need to atone for the past—that every Friday and Sunday he attends services at the Orthodox Cathedral that just so happens to be three blocks from their apartment, and that as such, every Friday and Sunday, Ash meets him after services conclude. He knows that they have coffee, or they have breakfast, or they have a casual stroll in the park, and he knows that afterward, Ash returns with a smile on his face, with his shoulders relaxed, with an air of someone who has everything he’s ever wanted.

Eiji doesn’t go with Ash on these excursions. Eiji’s knowledge of Blanca is minimal—relegated to a few moments in passing, during which he gathered Blanca bore him no ill will. 

Now he stares deeply into dark brown eyes, watches the skin of his eyelids crease as he smiles. He’s a beautiful man. A dreamboat. Eiji finds himself blushing at that, and wonders if Ash has already relayed the story.

“Ahem.” Blanca clears his throat, and Ash turns to face him, still watching the ground in front of his sock feet. “Where would you like to be, Ash,” he says. 

His voice is softly melodic. A syrupy thing that coats the air. 

Eiji shivers.

Blanca’s eyes set on him then, and Eiji feels as though he’s being swallowed up by the sun. “Eiji,” he says in greeting. This is not an ‘Eiji’ of ignorance and it was not an ‘Eiji’ of disinterest. It’s an ‘Eiji’ of the feathered touch of curiosity and lust. 

“The bedroom,” Ash says then, and Blanca merely nods, then turns in that direction, as though he’s familiar, as though he’s been here many times before.

He’s carrying a subtle black suitcase, Eiji realizes, and it brushes against the soft fabric of his suit pants with a _swishing_ sound.

Eiji finds himself following the pair as though pulled by a magnetic force—as though the very turning of the Earth might stop if he hesitates.

Back in the bedroom, Blanca looks at Eiji once more. “Ash has already given me your lists and your wants and do-not-wants. Is there anything else you’d like to add or cover before we begin?”

Once more, the sterility of their future act rubs against Eiji’s senses with a grating irritation. Still, he understands now. Understands why the rules are so important for the game. It’s a game of trust, and a game of inhibitions and there can be absolutely no one more in control than the other. It’s a tenuous thread linked by three fallible humans and consent is absolutely imperative. 

Eiji nods his head once, then licks his lips once before speaking. “Nothing has changed.” His voice sounds small and frightened to his own ears and he can feel color rushing to his cheeks once more. “Do you have the lists?” 

He’s proud of the way he refuses to look away. Of the way he matches Blanca’s fire. 

Blanca smiles at him then, as though he’s passed some test, and nods before reaching into a side pocket of the bag and drawing out two sheets of paper. “Right here. Would you like to go over them once more?”

“No,” Eiji says. “I trust you.” He looks at Ash, still standing, yet submissive in the way his head is bowed. “I trust Ash. I trust myself.”

“Good,” Blanca replies. “Safe words?” 

“Color system,” Eiji says. He’s not sure how he know that Ash won’t speak right now, just that there is a weightiness about him that begets subservience.

Blanca nods. “Myself as well,” he says. Then he turns and settles the bag against the side of the bag, fumbling with the zipper for a moment as he props it open. Eiji is standing just around the curve of the mattress so he can’t quite see the contents, and despite an overwhelming desire to step forward and crane his neck, he manages to stay perfectly still. 

Then, Blanca stands once more and removes his suit jacket, opening their closet and draping it neatly on a coat hanger. He turns to face them and pushes up his sleeves. “Ash?” he questions. His tone is still thick and full of musical cadence, but now there is something harder, something slightly more present. Ash twitches once, then in one seemingly fluid motion, removes his t-shirt and his jeans, and kneels directly in front of Blanca with his forehead pressed against the hardwood of their floor.

Eiji’s chest is tight now and he’s finding it hard to breathe. Blanca looks at him and quirks an eye, and Eiji can feel his ears burning under the stare. He’s not sure what to do. He’s not sure what he wants to do—if he wants to reach out and run his hand across the bridge of Ash’s back, down to the waistband of his briefs. He’s not sure if he wants to close his eyes and leave the room, burying this flickering flame inside of him as deeply as it can possibly go. 

“Tonight is a lesson,” Blanca says, in that same voice.

Eiji can already feel his cock growing hard, pressing against the fly of his jeans.

“We are all learning. Ash is learning what it is to please two masters. You are learning what it is to be in control. I am learning how you like to be touched, Eiji. How you like to see Ash. How you like to come apart.”

Eiji licks at his lips again, his mouth dry. He wants to say something, but he’s not sure what. He’s not sure if his voice will hold.

Blanca cups a hand under Ash’s chin and lifts his head slightly, forcing Ash to look him in the eyes. “You’re so perfect,” he says. “You remember everything, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Ash murmurs.

Eiji wants to thrust a hand into his pants and stroke himself hard and fast until he’s spurting across the room. The delicateness in Ash’s voice, the subservience, the need, is enough to elicit a groan from deep inside his throat.

Blanca smiles at him then. “He’s hard to resist, isn’t he?”

Eiji nods tightly, still struggling to breath against the sudden constriction of his chest. 

“He’ll be so beautiful for you as well,” Blanca murmurs, then he looks back to Ash, and draws his head closer, close enough for his lips to whisper against Ash’s mouth before dropping his hand and snapping his fingers once.

Ash moans softly at the loss of contact, but quickly settles his head against the floor again.

“Strip, Eiji,” Blanca says.

Eiji finds himself unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging out of it and the fine cotton of his undershirt, and shucking off his jeans and socks before he even considers the command. _It’s fine_ , his brain supplies. _Ash trusts this. This feels good. It’s fine._

Blanca watches him with approval. Then, “everything.”

Eiji starts. “I—”

“Everything. And you will address me as Sir, if you feel the need to speak.”

Eiji looks down at Ash then, watching the way his body is already quivering. He swallows, then peels off his briefs and stands, naked, waiting for whatever comes next.

Blanca strokes a hand through Ash’s hair and lets his fingers trace along the back of Ash’s shoulder, down his firmly muscled arm, then back up his neck. He must put some pressure there, because Ash looks up once more. Then Blanca holds two fingers out and Eiji watches as Ash pushes forward, opening his mouth and swallowing them as deeply as he can. He begins to suck, and the thick, wet sound of his mouth fills the air.

“Kneel,” Blanca says then, still watching Eiji.

Eiji sinks to his knees, then lowers his forehead like Ash,

“No,” Blanca says. 

This isn’t a shout, but Eiji flinches at the roughness of the tone anyway. He looks up for further instruction.

“Just kneel,” Blanca continues. “I want you to hold your hands behind your back. You are not to move. You are not to touch Ash or me. You are not to touch yourself. You are meant to watch and to learn right now.”

Eiji slowly obeys, letting his left hand clench his right wrist tightly. His cock is impossibly hard against his thighs and he’s embarrassed by how much he’s turned on already. How much he desperately wants to come, despite not being touched, despite not even being a part of whatever is going on in front of him. “Yes, Sir,” he manages. This is a quiet thing, almost too soft to be heard, but Blanca’s face softens into pleasure. 

“Wonderful,” he says.

Eiji’s cock jumps at the praise and his face burns with shame.

“Wait, Ash,” Blanca says then, pulling his fingers free then moving past him to where Eiji kneels. He holds his fingers out then, still wet with Ash’s spit.

Eiji opens his mouth and then closes it around Blanca, tasting Ash, tasting Blanca. His eyes close with the combining pleasure of the sensation and he fights to keep his hands firmly behind his back. 

“Wonderful,” Blanca repeats, then draws his fingers back. He traces one along Eiji’s brow, letting it glide to the cusp of his right ear. “Don’t be ashamed,” he whispers. “You’re doing perfectly. You’re so beautiful and Ash and I are so lucky to have you here with us. Never feel shame.”

His face is so honestly open and Eiji has a sudden, burning desire to lift his chin and claim Blanca’s mouth in a kiss.

_You are not to move. You are not to touch Ash or me. You are not to touch yourself._

Eiji holds himself perfectly still and says, “thank you, Sir.”

Blanca moves back to Ash and snaps his fingers twice. This time, Ash sits up for a moment, and gracefully removes his own briefs, before turning and lowering his head once more. Now he’s facing Eiji, but still not looking at him. Now he’s raised his backside to Blanca.

Eiji can see the fine locks of his blond hair brush against his eyelashes. He can see the way his shoulders are trembling in taut anxiety.

He can see the way Ash’s cock lays, hard and leaking against the floor. He wants to move forward on his knees. He wants to lick at the curve of his spine and taste the sweetness of his shower, taste the bitterness of salty sweat. 

A low groan escapes his throat and Blanca smiles. 

“Watch me Eiji,” he says, then presses a spit soaked finger against Ash’s hole. Ash lets out a keening whine then, and Eiji almost lets go of his wrist. He needs friction, he needs to rub against something he needs Ash to swallow his cock whole and moan around him, vibrations traveling through his sensitive skin.

“Oh my God,” Eiji says, as Blanca begins to press one finger in.

“Wonderful, Ash,” Blanca says, then rocks his hand back and forth. 

This is a gentle sort of movement. There is nothing violent, there is nothing hard. This is movement born of love and Eiji so badly wants to cry and to thank Blanca for treating Ash the way he is meant to be treated. 

“Eiji?” Blanca says, still working one finger inside.

He realizes that his eyes are shut closed, that he’s lost feeling in one of his hands from the intense grip of the other. He flicks his eyes back to Blanca and whispers, “Yes?”

“He can take more than this,” Blanca says, calmly. “He can take so much more. I’m going to give it to him tonight but I want you to watch everything. The next time, you need to do this for us. Do you understand?”

Eiji nodded, his voice stuck. Syllables clattering for release, fall against the back of his throat.

“Good,” Blanca murmured. He watches Eiji carefully as he inserts another finger, and Ash begins to rock against him. “Beautiful.”

Eiji is beginning to tremble. There is a long line of slick on his thigh, left from his leaking cock and he can imagine Ash licking it, then kissing him. He can imagine tasting himself on Ash’s lips and he can imagine Blanca behind him, wrapping an enormous hand around his length and pulling pleasure out like thick strands of taffy. “Oh,” he murmurs. “Oh.”

The roundness of the vowel stretches out between them and Blanca looks up.

“I need,” Eiji says, “I need, Sir, I need—”

“You are doing beautifully, Eiji. Don’t move. We’ll take care of you, just trust us. Trust us, Eiji.”

Ash looks up at that, met Eiji’s eyes, and there is a burning passion in the dark green. 

_“I love you,_ ” he’d whispered as he’d gone to open the door.

“I love you,” Eiji whispers back, in the present. “I love you, Ash, I love you, I love you, Sir…” he is stuttering out something, his brain is refusing to catch up. He has no idea where he is or when he isor what he is and this is a realization that is almost like wings, like freedom. This is something that was the warmth of the sun’s reflection on the ocean. “I love you.”

Blanca stands for a moment, unbuttoning his dress shirt and carefully laying it on the bed, then letting his slacks fall to his feet. He isn’t wearing any underwear underneath them, and his cock stands erect and enormous and so beautifully soft looking that Eiji is suddenly filled with a deep desire to taste it. 

Blanca kneels once more behind Ash and lines up at his entrance. 

His head bows for a moment, loose strands of dark hair coming loose from the band at the nape of his neck and dragging along the pale, freckled flesh of Ash’s shoulders. Eiji can remember kissing there, kissing a constellation of sun kissed skin along the curve of his neck. He wonders what Blanca’s shoulders taste like.

“Are you ready, beautiful?” Blanca whispers, and Ash moans out a garbled, “yes…yes…please, Master…yes.”

Blanca braces himself against the floor with one arm, and wraps the other around Ash’s waist, pulling him in, pulling him close, allowing no movement. Then he carefully pushes in.

Ash sighs, a long, single note of pleasure, and Eiji watches as Blanca begins to thrust, rocking back and forth, angling himself just right so that Ash cries out with wordless, fleeting sounds.

“Oh my God,” Eiji says. 

It’s impossible how much watching Ash take Blanca’s length is filling Eiji with lust. He wants to scream out, he wants to moan with every thrust of Blanca’s cock, he wants to reach out and fist his hands through Ash’s blond hair and pull it tightly, press his mouth against Ash’s and tongue at everything inside. 

Instead he shakes, a twitching, quavering mess, and watches Ash jerk forward and back and forward and back and moan and moan and moan.

There are tears running down his face now. He doesn’t know how long he’s been crying. He doesn’t know what precipitated this wave of emotion. All he can understand was that every nerve in his body is on fire, is desperate for release. The intensity of this is more than he’d every realized was possible.

He watches as Ash comes, untouched, spilling on the winding burls of the hardwood. He watches the milky white liquid spurt again and again and again and he groans with his need to touch himself.

“Almost,” Blanca says to him, then he is coming too, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, only the smallest sound of pleasure escaping. 

Eiji watches as they both collapse on the floor in front of him, heaving gigantic breaths of air. Ash is shaking, and mumbling some unintelligible vocalization of pleasure. He’s laying in a pool of cum and Eiji can’t wait to move, to lick it off of him.

Blanca moves first, pushing himself off, dick popping out of Ash with a squelching sound, and Eiji watches him carefully, his cheeks hardened from the salt tracks of tears. Blanca walks over and kneels down next to him. He still doesn’t touch. He’s barely breathing enough for Eiji to feel the whisper of it against his skin. Eiji wants to scream in frustration.

“You,” Blanca says, his voice rough with sex. “You are absolute perfection.”

He tilts his head down then, and kisses Eiji.

It’s everything Eiji could have hoped for—warmth, and bliss, and desire. Blanca tastes of tobacco, and the slightest hint of wintergreen, and Eiji wants to cry again with loss as he pulled away. 

“Ash?” Blanca asks, still staring at Eiji.

Ash lifts his head. His movements are heavy, and exhausted, but there is a blazing smile on his face of pure ecstasy. “Master?” he asks.

“I want you to finish Eiji. Use your mouth. He deserves so much from us, Ash.”

Eiji hiccups then, an embarrasing sound that echoes at the corners of the room. 

“It’s alright,” Blanca says, moving behind him and letting his hands massage along Eiji’s scalp, run through his hair, tangle in it and press at his ears, at his neck, at his throat. “You’ve done so wonderfully, let us take care of you now.”

Ash crawls forward and suddenly his mouth is at Eiji’s cock and Blanca’s hands are pressing winding, meandering patterns into his skin, and the world darkens to blackness as he comes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, all <3

_The warm steam of the shower rose up, thick enough to clog breath with, almost dense enough that you could lay back and let it curl slivered fingertips around you in support._

_Their shower was the best part of the apartment—the absolute selling point for Eiji. It was enormous and surrounded on three sides with heavy glass doors and one side with swirling black and white marble. If someone were to lean against one while being fucked, while screaming out in pleasure, while fisting hands hard against the smoothness of the glass, you could sometimes even see the reflection in the mirror. (This was less a hypothesis as it was something that was learned from innumerable experiences.)_

_Now, there were three men inside, and still there was room to bend over, to kneel._

_They stood next to each other, Ash and Eiji, both leaning against the far marble wall of the space, both looking on as Blanca knelt at their feet. Blanca was moaning and whispering over and over again how beautiful they both were, how wonderfully they did, what absolute perfection Ash was, taking cock from both sides. What absolute perfection Eiji’s moans were and his stamina was. How lucky he was to have them both._

_“Eiji…”_

_Blanca looked up at them from his knees and he soaped up the washcloth again, running it gently up Ash’s legs, while Eiji hugged Ash from behind. He had Ash bend and he gently washed his hole, gently washed his cock and balls, moved up across his navel to his chest, his neck, his ears. Everything was a soft and shimmering detail in the mist, and Ash threw back his head in pleasure, groaning with joy. This was no longer sexual, this was simple comfort, touch, laced with careful ministration._

_“Eiji…”_

_Next Blanca moved to Eiji, and Ash gripped his forearm, buried his head against the softness of Eiji’s throat. He hummed there. This was a quiet sort of hum, it was almost as though he were doing it reflexively, and Eiji could feel the vibrations all the way through his chest. Blanca washed Eiji as well—washed his feet, in between his toes, traveled up his knees and his thighs and his cock that was hard again, weeping again. Blanca circled the cloth to his backside and tugged Eiji closer to him, then swallowed him whole as he scrubbed scent into his skin._

_Ash was still pressed against Eiji’s throat when Eiji started to moan in pleasure. This was nothing like the bedroom. There was nothing here of Master or Sir or Slave. This was endless sensation and touch and it was as though the nerves of all three buzzed loudly, searching, wandering, then finally meeting at the perfect center of pitch. Eiji—_

“Eiji!”

Eiji looks up, skin flushing, hands cradled against a suspiciously tepid cup of black coffee.

“Hey. You all there?” Ash says, looking down at him. He grabs the mug from Eiji’s hands and forces a second in it’s place. This one is hot, steaming, smelling deliciously of caffeine.

“I…” Eiji says, then stops. He doesn’t know what the proper cadence of words should be this morning. He’s unsure of how to proceed. Last night he had been a feral thing—more open and brazen and bare than ever before in his life, and he’s unsure of what he should say to reflect this _thing_ that Ash now knows. 

Ash bends down and sweeps a long lock of Eiji’s hair from his shoulder, lifting it, then kissing at the bare flesh right behind Eiji’s right ear. “You are gorgeous,” he whispers.

Just like that, the weighted anxiety of the night before dissolves. Here is Ash. He is the same as he was yesterday. The same as he was the day before that and the day before that and the day before that. Here he stands, and Eiji loves him so very much. Ash isn’t judging him. Ash isn’t upset with him. “I was worried,” Eiji confesses. “I wasn’t sure if you…everything was so…you were so different and you aren’t like that here and—”

Ash puts a finger to his lips and Eiji quiets. “I’m allowed to like different things,” he says quietly. Then he circles the table, sits down with the heavy drape of a man whos body still recalls gangly adolescence, and throws his feet up on the wood.

“Ash!” Eiji chides. “Can you just for once not…I mean…feet!” He glares, but the shining face of the moonlight has circled back to the other side of earth and here, in the daytime, Ash is back in control.

He just shrugs. “We got Windex.”

Now Eiji is outraged. “Windex is not an antibacterial spray,” he pronounces. “Ash, please tell me you have not been only using Windex on our countertops! It is for glass!”

“I thought we were talking about sex,” Ash says, a grin pressing up against his cheeks. 

Eiji throws up his hands in defeat. “I will wash the table when we’re done. Me. Got it?”

“Got it, Master,” Ash quips.

Eiji falls silent once more. He folds his hands in his lap and looks down, carefully studying every minute wrinkle of his knuckles, studying the tiny freckle at the base of his thumb. He picks up his mug again and drinks most of it, letting the minutes pool at their feet though equally hot liquid. “Was…it what you wanted?” He finally settles on. This is not necessarily the question he is burning to ask. He wants to know if he did everything correctly. He wants to know if Ash wants to do it again. He wants to ask if Ash has ever been sucked off by Blanca because Blanca’s mouth was incredible. 

He wants to know how Ash can tolerate being on his knees for anyone at all given his past.

Ash closes his eyes and leans back on his chair, letting the front two feet off the ground. He looks ponderous then, for a moment. As though he’s weight words and consonants and vowels and judging which are an acceptable combination to use. “It was everything,” he finally says. “It was…I don’t know how to explain it. Blanca is just…he’s home. He’s trust. He’s seen me at my worst, and he knows how to take care of me?”

He says this like it’s a question. Like he’s unsure of how Eiji will respond to anything.

“It’s like this,” he continues. “Blanca’s been a steady fixture in my life for longer than anyone else I know. And we’ve been through shit, and there are plenty of people who would blame him for certain…events…in my life. But he’s human, you know? He makes mistakes also. He has a capacity for love that is so enormous yet he doesn’t entirely know how to access it on command. And I…well. I’m desperate for love.” 

Ash looks past Eiji as he says this, and there is actually a flush of crimson at his cheeks. He’s vulnerable, Eiji realizes. He’s giving up control verbally right now and…

“And I trust him to give it. And please, don’t think that means I love you any less or I trust you any less or I—”

“I know,” Eiji says. He’s watching Ash closely, watching the way those green eyes flick back to him in an instant. “I understand. And you are my everything. And Blanca could be…well I could see him becoming something like that. He is safe. You are right, he is safe and he is careful and I find myself wanting…to try again. If you do of course. Only if you do.”

“Of course,” Ash nods. “Everything needs to be agreed on by all three parties.”

“Then yes,” Eiji breathes. 

Ash stands up again, and suddenly his boyish energy is back, boundless and unceasing and bright. He comes loping around the table and throws himself into Eiji’s lap. Then they’re kissing, and Ash’s fingers are fisted through Eiji’s long dark hair, and Eiji’s hands are wrapped tightly around Ash’s neck and neither are ceasing, neither are letting go.

They stay like this for a long moment, in soliloquy to passion. Then Ash untangles himself from Eiji and stands once more. “Morning jog?” he questions.

“Of course!” Eiji responds, not at all sure how he is going to run directly after drinking a full cup of coffee.

But this is familiar. This is their base, their control. Nothing outward has changed, but they each hold the eruption of a seed within them, the blooming idea of something new. Something improbable. 

Something delicious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seems to be turning...longer than anticipated. 
> 
> Enjoy some more cursed threesome! <3

Eiji is the one to answer the door the next Saturday.

The knock comes early—a full twenty-three minutes prior to when they’d scheduled. (He checks the Dali clock. He checks his watch. He taps the side of his phone and watches the screen light up with the requisite analog equivalent.) Ash is still in the shower, an activity that seems to be his new habitual preparation for their ‘Saturday night appointments.’ 

The knock comes again, this time more insistent. Eiji stands and the book he was skimming tumbles from his fingers with a dull thump against the floor. 

He moves quietly to the door, listening for a moment and only hearing the thundering of his own heart. Then he unlatches the deadbolt of the door, trying three times at the knob before his sweaty palms are able to grip it tightly enough to turn. 

Blanca stands there, black bag in hand, trench coat swung dashingly over a forearm. 

Eiji swallows and it tastes like gravel. “Hi,” he manages. 

Blanca quirks an eyebrow. “Hi,” he returns sardonically, his voice thick and husky and warm. Then he reaches his free hand around the nape of Eiji’s neck, bends down, and draws Eiji in for a kiss.

Eiji exhales, the tension in his body flooding outward with a burst of pure radiance, and he opens his mouth ever so slightly, letting Blanca in, tasting that deep oak of tobacco, the breathy sigh of mint. There is a surging adrenaline now that traverses his entire body, sending his heart into erratic measures of time. Somewhere, in the distance, the shower stops running, and the bleating crow of a starling echoes from the open window in the kitchen, and the air conditioner begins to whir, grinding to life with a groan and heave and pop.

Blanca’s fingers relax and Eiji finds himself looking up at him once more, no longer one being but two, separate entities. Blanca’s lips are redder now, deeper, swollen with something so simple as a kiss, and Eiji flushes. _I did this_ , something exclaims, deep within him. _I made him this way._

“Ash?” Blanca questions, still a man of single syllables. Not yet a man undone, a man completed.

“Showering,” Eiji responds. “You are a bit early.”

Blanca smiles at this. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” He is being particularly pert, particularly disagreeable.

“Are you going to let me in?” Blanca questions. 

He hasn’t moved an inch since their kiss. He stands as still as stone, yet something about him is as alive as a mountain—roots and insects and crystalline waters all flow under his surface in graceful motion. Eiji lifts a hand, then holds it steady, a whisper away from pressing the palm of his hand against Blanca’s chest. He wants to feel the heartbeat of a lion.

Instead, he takes a step back and extends his hand, a silent invitation.

Blanca moves past him, hangs his coat at the rack by the front door, then moves to the couch. He sets the black bag down, and while doing so, picks up the splayed book from the floor. “Murakami?” he questions. “Seems a little apropos.”

“Until you have read his books the way they were meant to be read—in the original Japanese—I think you can refrain from having an opinion on the matter.” Eiji walks forward and takes the proffered book from Blanca’s hand and carefully situates it back in it’s proper position at the end table, corner slightly skewed, ripe and ready for plucking up.

“Feisty,” Blanca says with a grin. “Come here.”

Eiji does, his feet obeying the command as though they were programmed for it. His heart is still beating against his chest in ferocious semblance of normalcy, his throat is tight with anticipation, but he brings himself to sit next to Blanca, who has made himself perfectly comfortable on the sofa.

“Ah, ah,” Blanca says then, grin growing wider. Then he looks to the floor. 

Eiji swallows. The room is hot, the air is suddenly stale. There was a breeze coming from the kitchen window mere moments ago but it too has died under the weight of this evenings proclivities. He stands once more, then kneels at Blanca’s feet, bowing his head.

Blanca reaches down and cups a hand under Eiji’s chin. This is the same movement that he’d used with Ash last week, and it is still so gentle, so controlling yet dilluted with ease. There is nothing so serious as last week going on here. 

Yet. 

“I came early for a reason,” he whispers.

The movement of air against Eiji’s ear alights his nerves and the hairs at the back of his neck begin to prickle.

“Open the bag,” Blanca says.

Eiji wants to laugh out loud now, though it is just his nervousness pushing for dominance. He recalls a movie that Ash made him watch. He’d slept through most of it, head lolling lazily against Ash’s chest, wrapped in a warm embrace. He’d woken for the end of it though, just enough to watch some man screaming about opening a box. This thought circles around and around his head until he does laugh with it, a frightened, sharp thing.

“Eiji?” Blanca questions.

Eiji shakes his head. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Just nervous.” 

There is something about this moment, about being alone with Blanca without the protection of his lynx, that frightens him, that seems almost too vivid, too real. The colors are too sharp. 

He reaches for the bag and carefully zips it open, noting the sound of the soft catch of plastic teeth. The very top item in the bag catches the overhead light and reflects a bright square of intensity over and over and over again in front of Eiji’s eyes. 

Handcuffs.

“Take them,” Blanca whispers.

His whisper is a sharp, prick of air, beveled and carved for precision. 

Eiji picks up the handcuffs. “I…” he murmurs. “What do I do, Sir?”

“There you are,” Blanca says with a contented pride, as though praising him for finally emerging. “There you are.”

There is a creak from the hallway, a padding of bare feet, and then Ash stands at the door frame, tall and lithe, and exotic. He is already completely naked, his body pink from the heat of his shower, his cock half hard. He kneels carefully, and Eiji watches as a condensation cloud blooms around his knees from the heat of his body. 

“Master,” Ash nods, towards Blanca. Then he turns to look at Eiji. “Master,” he says again. 

It is quieter, a gentler sort of call. Eiji shivers.

“Eiji will take you to the bedroom,” Blanca says. “You are to lay down on the bed with your hands raised above your head. Eiji?” He looks to where Eiji still kneels. “Secure him. Then undress. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Yes, Sir,” Eiji whispers. He stands, and walks towards Ash. He puts a hand gently on Ash’s shoulder, pushing confidence, transferring love. Ash still doesn’t move though, and he looks once more to Blanca.

“You need to lead, Eiji,” Blanca says. “He will follow. He is wonderful at obeying instructions, aren’t you Ash?” 

“Master,” Ash quietly answers.

Eiji brushes past him then, his fingers screaming to reach out and touch Ash, to reach down and stroke his cock, to taste him, to feel him, to hear him moan—

His own cock is already hard in his shorts and he considers this with wry amusement. It seems Blanca enjoys making them wait. Enjoys prolonging pleasure. Eiji considers how he might use that to his advantage some day soon. Some day when he is ready, and when he has Blanca under him, screaming out his name, writhing in passion.

Sure enough, Ash stands as soon as Eiji passes, and follows him quietly into the bedroom. As soon as they reach the queen size bed, Eiji turns to him. “Wait,” he commands, and Ash kneels once more. Then Eiji quickly folds down the comforter and the sheets to the very base of the bed, leaving only the stark white fitted sheet in view. “Now,” he says, not looking back.

Ash stands, then gracefully mounts the bed. His long limbs are quiet in their movement. They are willow branches in a soft lullaby. He lays on the bed, and slowly extends his hands above his head.

Eiji crawls on top of him for a moment, rocking against him. He enjoys the way Ash squints his eyes closed for a moment at the friction. Then Eiji bends over him and fastens the handcuffs around his wrists and the metal headboard. He presses them tightly, listening to the grating clicking of the cuffs as the circle pale flesh. 

“I love you,” Ash whispers up at him.

“I didn’t ask you to speak,” Eiji says. It isn’t cold so much as authoritative. Ash drops his eyes quickly then, but a small smile blooms across a flushed cheek, and Eiji knows he has made the right decision.

He wriggles off the bed then, taking a moment to look at the glorious creature he has created. Then he sheds the soft athletic shorts that he had been wearing and pulls the grey cotton t-shirt over his head. He stands there naked as well, allowing Ash to watch him, to watch as his cock swells even firmer in the warmth of the bedroom. Then he hears the door click shut behind them and he turns to see Blanca.

“Oh, you’ve done a wonderful job, Eiji. Just look at him. Just look how beautiful he is.” 

Blanca is naked now also, but his bareness speaks of power and of confidence and of the mythos of Greek Gods. Eiji longs to run his fingers through soft brown hair. To pull at the band holding it back with his teeth and to let it fall freely, brushing golden shoulders, tangling in fantastic chaos. 

Instead, he stands at attention. Frozen. Waiting.

Blanca walks to the bed, and runs a large hand from the curve of Ash’s ankle up past the mound of his knee, on to the toned, pale expanse of thigh. Ash’s cock jumps at the touch, and Eiji can already see it glistening, wanting. 

“Come here, Eiji,” Blanca says, and Eiji obeys. Then to Ash, “spread your legs for us.”

Ash does this, and suddenly there is a clawing heat in Eiji’s chest that burns at his throat for escape. Ash’s cock is hard against his belly, his balls soft and covered in wiry, blond hairs. Eiji wonders if he blows at them if they will flutter with the urge to fly. He can see the delicate pink below them now as well, turning to darker skin at the pucker of Ash’s hole. “Can I,” he breathes, and Blanca nods.

“Touch him,” Blanca says. 

Eiji reaches out, but Blanca tuts at him and he freezes once more.

“On the bed,” Blanca says. “Get on your knees between his legs and run your fingertips along his thighs.”

Eiji obeys. The mattress dips incrementally under his slight weight, but he settles then, letting the pads of his fingertips brush against soft skin. Ash moans quietly, and Eiji looks up, watches the pulse at his throat flicker faster and faster.

“Beautiful,” Blanca says. He is hard now also, and he’s stroking himself with a hand. The head of his cock is cut, like Ash’s and it flares slightly upward. It also glistens with wetness in the dim light of their room and Eiji can hear the barest hint of his strokes—firm, and rhythmic, and perfectly steady. “Eiji, I want you to taste him.”

Eiji bends at that, curious, considering so many options. “Sir,” he says quietly. “Where should I taste.”

“Good boy,” Blanca says.

There is a tremor of pleasure at this that crawls up Eiji’s spine.

“Start underneath his balls,” Blanca says. “You need to push with your tongue. Then stroke down until you reach his hole. Lick and stroke with your tongue, let him feel the warmth of your mouth.”

Eiji nods, and bends down, his hands now gripping Ash’s thighs. 

“Oh my God,” Ash says above him, quiet, desperate, fluttery like the song of a bird.

Eiji licks then, his tongue darting out against pink flesh and Ash starts to writhe with it, to moan with it. This is more pleasure than Eiji has ever imagined. This is better than coming, this is better than Blanca’s mouth around his dick. He is doing this, he is causing these feral whimpers to break free from Ash’s mouth. He swirls his tongue at Ash’s hole, poking in, tasting every bit of skin he can. He’s kissing at the pucker of flesh, and moaning against it. His own cock is so hard between his legs he thinks he might cry with it and so he moves, just enough so that he can rub against the mattress, just enough so that there is the barest spark of friction—

“Enough,” Blanca says quietly.

Eiji rises in obeisance. His mouth is sticky with spit and he feels soiled, dirty, and even these thoughts are enough to make him harder still.

“You need to prepare him,” Blanca says. “One finger. Then two. Do you remember how I did it last time?”

Eiji nods. “Yes, Sir.” He presses a finger at Ash’s hole and watches as it’s swallowed while Ash cries out. He’s tugging against the restraints and Eiji can see color blooming at his wrists. “Color?” He whispers.

“Green,” Ash says, eyes still closed. “Green, green, oh my God green.”

“Good,” Blanca says. He’s behind Eiji now. He’s moved during this and Eiji hadn’t even noticed because he’s so gracefully silent. “Good, Eiji.” Blanca leans against Eiji, mouthing at his neck, mouthing at the curve of his shoulder bone and across to the other side. Then he’s kissing up Eiji’s neck, and Eiji’s adding another finger, and Ash is panting underneath them both. Eiji turns his head and meets Blanca for a deep kiss, pushing his tongue in, letting Blanca tongue at his teeth at the side of his cheeks. Everything is open. Everything is pleasure. Every nerve and synapse and connection running underneath Eiji’s skin is on fire, and then Blanca pulls away and whispers “He’s ready. Enter him for me.”

_“…for me.”_

_“…for me.”_

_“…for me.”_

“Oh god, Blanca. Oh Ash,” Eiji cries. It’s too much all at once. There are too many places on his body that are being touched, that are being worshiped, and he doesn’t know how to move anymore.

“May I?” Blanca whispers at his ear.

“Please,” Eiji cries. “Please, please, please.”

Blanca reaches around him then and holds him. Steadies him at Ash’s entrance. Eiji can feel Ash’s thighs shaking underneath him. He’s coming apart too, he’s holding too much raw desperation, the need is too great. Eiji pushes in and the warmth is incredible, it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Blanca is still at his back, and Eiji can feel his hand working his own cock, and he can hear the gasps in Blanca’s breath that mean he’s close, he’s so close.

Eiji rocks in and back and Ash yells out with pleasure. He does it again, angling just so slightly up, trying to find the same spot that Blanca had hit last week, the spot that made Ash dissolve. There is warmth at his back then and Blanca is cumming, spurting across his spine. He can feel it dripping down the crease of his own ass and then Blanca presses up against him, holding him steady, rocking in time with him. “Touch him,” Blanca says. “Stroke his cock. He needs you to help him cum, Eiji”

It’s with those words that Eiji can’t hold it any longer. He’s releasing now, emptying deep inside Ash, everything is so hot, so wet, so impossibly perfect. He reaches for Ash’s cock, and only strokes twice before Ash is spilling over in his hand, moaning and whimpering, and writhing against the handcuffs.

Eiji collapses beside him then. “Oh my God,” he says. It just falls from his mouth. There is nothing else, there is nothing that matters, this second is expanding to encompass eternity and he can’t possibly move. He can’t possibly send out a vibration that might jar the moment to shattering. 

Then Blanca crawls up on the bed, the mattress dipping even lower, and then he’s licking at them both, cleaning them with his tongue. He moans as he does it—it’s impossibly indecent. Eiji can feel the sound as it travels through his skin. He can feel the warmth of Blanca’s tongue, lapping his own come off Eiji’s backside. It’s so hot, and Eiji wants to tell Blanca that this is the single, dirtiest, most exquisite contact he’s ever felt in his life, but he’s so fucked out of his mind that he can’t even bring himself to move.

“Eiji,” Ash says, his voice hoarse. “Kiss me.”

Eiji turns, as Blanca moves to start licking at Ash’s thighs and he presses his lips against Ash’s—just once. A tender, chaste, kiss. 

Ash closes his eyes and murmurs against Eiji’s lips.

“This is everything.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting more into the Blanca/Eiji dynamic here and LOVING IT. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading <3

Eiji stirs first, wakes and raises his head out of the snarly mess of Ash’s hair. He looks at the clock on the bedside table. It’s blinking a steady beat of 12:00. He groans softly, a purr in the depths of his chest, and Ash moves, tucking in even closer. 

Ash is curled in the fetal position, pressed up against Eiji’s chest, his knees tucked against Eiji’s thighs. There is a heavy weight behind Eiji as well, and a long, firmly muscled arm draped across his shoulders and Ash’s back. It’s holding the three of them together. Warm, and naked, and infinite.

It’s not worth it to move and reach for his phone. The room is black—the thickly coated, black of deep night. It’s probably only been an hour or two since they fell asleep like this; soft and languid from the strokes of Blanca’s tongue, cleaned by only his mouth. 

There is a warmth in his chest and it travels quickly downward, stirring in his groin. Eiji squishes his eyes closed and tries to still his beating heart.

“I’m going to shower.”

This comes as a whisper in his ear, and Eiji starts, while Ash murmurs nothingness against him.

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Blanca continues. 

The warmth of his breath puffs against Eiji’s ear and his cock grows harder.

“When I’m finished, I want you to take Ash to the shower. You need to take care of him. Help him. Hold him. I’ll be in the kitchen making something to eat.”

Eiji turns at his, his cheek brushing against Blanca’s nose. “It’s the middle of the night,” he says sleepily. He’s completely drained. He feels loose, limp, like he barely has the energy to continue breathing.

“Let me take care of you,” Blanca whispers. Then he pushes himself up on an elbow, releases his hold on Ash, tangles a hand in Eiji’s hair and draws him in for a deep kiss.

“Blanca…” Ash mumbles against Eiji’s chest. He’s still thick with sleep. 

“Eiji’s got you, beautiful,” Blanca says. He reaches out and strokes at the slight dip of Ash’s bare back, and Ash shivers.

Then Blanca is up, silent, graceful. The bed barely moves as he steps from it. Eiji watches him as he walks to the door and quietly opens it, slipping into the hall. There is a light on still, from the kitchen, and it illuminates his naked silhouette against the door frame. He is soft now, but Eiji watches as his cock swings heavily between his legs. He watches the way the muscles in his back ripple as he walks. He watches the way the pads of his feet lift silently, then place down with exquisite care—the footsteps of a predator.

He’s fully hard now, pressing against Ash’s stomach, and he swallows at the heat that’s clawing its way up his throat.

“Mmm,” Ash murmurs. His hands push upwards, unfurling from the clutch against Eiji’s chest. Then he reaches out and lets a finger drift slowly down Eiji’s temple, to his cheek, to his chin. “Kiss me,” he says. He is quiet, still soggy with dream scape, eyes still closed. 

Eiji tilts his head down and kisses at his collarbone, kisses at his neck, kisses up to the base of his ear. Ash turns his head then and their mouths meet, chaste and simple. Ash tastes of sleep, and Eiji chases it, hungry for everything. Ash reaches down then and as his hand brushes against Eiji’s navel, he gasps. 

“Let me,” Ash whispers against his mouth.

Eiji moans, and Ash wraps long, soft fingers around his cock. “Blanca,” he mumbles at Ash’s lips. 

“I’ll make it up to him,” Ash says. 

He’s more aware now, more beautiful in the blackness of the room. Eiji can only make out the outline of his body—the way they curve against each other, the movement of his hand at Eiji’s groin. He’s so superbly gentle, barely touching, barely brushing against the tip with his thumb. It’s so different from last night. So different from the Ash who was crying out to be fucked, crying out to be used, prostrating himself under two masters. It’s not a better kind of different, or a worse kind of different. It’s a magical thing, that he can merge so completely with two different beasts.

Eiji moves to take Ash in his hand, because he’s hard now to, his hips are stuttering against Eiji, searching for friction.

“Yes,” Ash whispers.

Eiji knows how to make him come quickly, and he knows how to make him cry with the want of it. This though, this is something special. This is a prayer. “Ash,” he whispers to the blackness. “Ash.”

Ash has bent his head down again, into the curving divot of Eiji’s neck and collarbone. The flutter of his eyelashes against Eiji’s chest brush curling swirls into his skin. His hand is firm at Eiji’s cock but it’s still so gentle, so painfully careful.

“Ash,” Eiji says, more insistently. “Ash, I…” 

Ash’s free hand comes up and covers Eiji’s mouth, pressing silence into him.

He comes apart with a sigh and Ash shivers into him. 

***

After everyone has cleaned and showered, (after Eiji kneels at Ash’s feet and cleans him, presses the soapy washcloth against his skin, kisses at his feet and his thighs and his stomach,) they meet Blanca in the kitchen. There is still a fluttering of sensation in Eiji’s body, a joyous, raucous sort of buzzing that wants to scream with it, wants to tell the world that Ash had stood and let Eiji worship him the way he was meant to be worshiped. That he had let him do what Blanca had done. That he trusted him. That he loved him in every way that mattered.

Blanca, true to his word, has scrambled eggs with veggies, and has everything waiting for them when they emerge from the heat of the bathroom.

“Eat,” he says simply, but his eyes are full of something more.

Eiji’s never realized how much depth is there, behind the flat brown. How much emotion those eyes can hold, how much they sparkle if the light hits them in just the right way. 

Ash pulls out a chair and throws himself into it, kitten-like, boyish. Then he helps himself without a word, shoving forkfuls of protein into his mouth, like a ravenous animal.

“Thank you,” Eiji says quietly, making his way around the table to where Blanca stands, still at the stove. The pans are already scrubbed clean and laying against the granite of the counter tops to dry, and everything has been put back in it’s proper place. This is a beauty that Eiji appreciates. That Eiji loves. He moves closer and rises on the balls of his feet, reaching up to tug at Blanca’s neck and draw him down for a kiss. “Thank you,” he says again, whispering it at Blanca’s ear. Then he lets go, and they both join Ash at the table, and the clock above the pantry ticks minutes and minutes and minutes until it’s the early hours of dawn and birds begin to sing.

***

They fall into an easy sort of routine. The morning run still happens, they both still attempt to escape individual demons that are loathe to give up chase. They go to work. Ash leaves every morning at 9:30 am, after his shower and coffee, for the independent newspaper in town where he writes a darkly humorous, and frequently unsettlingly on point political columns. Eiji is more flexible, more lithe, more slippery in his daily schedule. He sometimes works nights in the back of the convenience store downstairs unloading shipments, stocking shelves. Other times, he stays at home, face pressed close to the bright screen of his laptop, teaching Japanese to beginners on Coursera. Even more frequent are his hours spent outside, the heavy lens of his Nikon brushing at his hips and his eyes searching, wanting.

His career is a cobbled together thing, and he supposes that this is what it is to be an artist. 

Truly he wants to be a photographer.

It is still an idea in its infancy, a fragile, breakable hope. Ash has already offered numerous times to pick up a second job to make ends meet so that Eiji can use every single minute of his day saturated in color, in moments, in a wash of frozen memory. This is a thing Eiji refuses. There is no world in which he will accept that sort of sacrifice from Ash, and truly he is happy. The beat of his heart drives him with forceful thumps of “newness…newness…newness…” If he had to spend everyday living the same schedule, he might go insane.

They are in love, and it is a simple, unadorned thing—the smooth underside of a wooden chair, the softness of twilight. It is not a thing that they have to forcefully declare, or present fasionably to the world. It is just a thing they know. A thing between them. The subtle bubbling of magic as they smile in passing, again and again and again.

Weeknights are still theirs, still reserved for the tangle of two pairs of legs, the softness of boyish kisses, the sounds of silent pleasure. 

Saturday nights are a tensile interruption of this all. They are chaos, they are upheaval. Passion.

Blanca arrives earlier and earlier now, as though he wants to carefully slip into their lives without any sort of unease. He is the slide of a hot knife into butter and they melt around him, bodies merging and sticking. Sometimes he arrive before dinner, and Ash smiles and beckons him in, taking his coat, bossing him around, at ease and in control.

It’s so different from how he’ll be in just a few hours.Then again, Eiji is so different now as well.

Blanca still makes him nervous while the sun is up. He still towers over them both, he still carries himself with the might of a king. There is a stillness about him, despite his careful movements, this too, Eiji is learning to navigate. 

On this evening, Eiji stops him at the door, with a simple press of his finger against Blanca’s lips. “I want to discuss something with you,” he says.

Blanca nods. There is never room for uncertainty within him, he holds his mistakes and his triumphs all right below the surface of breath and they snarl and mat with their mass. “Ash?” He says.

“I want to discuss something with you,” Eiji repeats. “He is cooking dinner.”

Blanca nods, and pushes inside. They no longer rely on the rules of formality. They are three, and they belong here, and there is no reason for it.

Eiji follows him, but doesn’t sit, just stands, looking at Blanca. They are almost of height this way—even sitting, Blanca still comes up to Eiji’s chin. “I have a…there is something I want.” Eiji says. His fingers grasp at each other, taut and nervous.

“And?” Blanca says. 

Eiji is used to his monosyllabic vocabulary. It is a thing he adapts when he is nervous. There is no other sign of discomfort ever, it is a small tell, the barest hint of anything. But Eiji has picked up on it, and he reaches out a hand to place on Blanca’s knee in comfort.

“I have certain…ideas.” Eiji says. He is not sure of the correct word, and for a moment, color flushes to his face as he thinks about how unsuited to America he still is.

“Fantasies?” Blanca guesses.

“Yes. I suppose. Yes, that is it,” Eiji nods. “I want to…will you…” he looks at his feet. Toes invisible patterns into the wood floor. “You have the lists still,” he says, ears burning.

Blanca nods. “I am familiar.”

“Weapon play” he says, as he turns his head. “I want…It was on the list. I…” His breath at his throat, sweat prickling at his hairline. This frightening idea has been growing within him, eating at him, lodging within every swallow. It grows and it grows and he can’t stop thinking about the possibility.

“We can work that out,” Blanca says.

“What will Ash, think” Eiji mutters. 

“It’s on his list also,” Blanca says. “And mine. It’s a green territory to explore.

It is so academic that Eiji turns back to him, watching the darkness pool in his eyes.

“We will need to set the ground rules. We can discuss it at dinner.”

“Blanca,” Eiji tries. He doesn’t want to tell Ash. He’s terrified to tell Ash. He doesn’t want to let this coiling darkness ruin them.

Blanca reaches out, cupping Eiji’s face in his hand, raising his thumb against Eiji’s lips. “It’s alright,” he whispers.

Eiji swallows, and jerks his head in a quick nod. “Ok,” he says. He is quivering under Blanca’s hand and he hates how nervous he is, he hates what a wash of relief he feels at finally asking, he hates that he wants this horrible, dark, thing. There is something else though, that winds and twists through the weavings of hatred. Something anticipatory and fraught with wildness.

Excitement.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***CHAPTER WARNING***
> 
> This chapter contains violence and rape. It is all consensual, it is all agreed upon beforehand, but if you want to skip this chapter, feel absolutely free!
> 
> Tags have been updated for events happening here.
> 
> The aftercare will come in the next chapter and I promise they are all ok with everything that happens here :)

“I want you to hurt me.” Eiji is quiet as he releases this from his throat—he looks at the ground in front of him. His hands are clenched together at his lap, and his left leg is jumping up and down in consistent, frenetic beat.

Ash is sitting cross legged at Blanca’s feet, in his favorite place when Blanca is around, and Blanca is splayed in the armchair by the window. There is a slight breeze brushing his long hair against his neck—the brief memory of a floral scent, released from the dogwood tree outside.

“Alright,” Blanca says. There is a deepness to his voice that speaks of growling, of animalistic hunts.

“Nothing permanent, of course,” Eiji says. “Just…it’s alright if it hurts. If I have a reminder in the morning.” His leg jumps faster. He can feel the vein at his throat pulse as he presses his teeth together.

“Ash?” Blanca asks.

Ash nods, then leans against Blanca’s leg, closing his eyes. He’s sitting in a warm pool of sunlight and he looks more cat like than usual. As though he is about to stretch his languid limbs and begin to purr. “I trust you,” he says to Blanca.

Blanca reaches a hand for Ash’s hair and lets his fingers lay on top of his scalp—comforting, a petting motion. “I need more than that. Explicit consent, kid.”

“I trust you not to hurt him too much. I trust you not to hurt me. I trust you to make both of us feel good, and I want you to trust us both that we will take care of you afterward as well. Anything but blindfolds, Blanca. It’s all green.”

“Alright,” Blanca says. “Eiji? Can you be a little more specific about what you are hoping for?”

Eiji swallows. It’s hot at his throat and he feels as though he’s choking on syllables. “I…I want there to be a gun. Umm…rope is good? I want to be helpless I guess…and…” his face is burning, searing against his cheeks, at his ears. “It’s…it’s alright if Ash doesn’t want to. It’s alright, I just…if you wanted to maybe…”

“I’m good,” Ash says, lazily against Blanca’s knee. His eyes are still closed and Eiji has a brief, flickering moment of irritation that he can discuss this with ease, without even the slightest flinch of embarrassment. “You can tie me up. Guns are fine. Breath play is fine. Humiliation is great. I’m good with whatever.”

“How?” Eiji says, and then freezes as he realizes that he’s spoken aloud. “I’m…oh gosh, I just mean…I—”

“I mean, yeah I’ve got shitty memories. But they didn’t kill my fucked up sex drive.” Ash shrugs and then opens his eyes, looks right at Eiji. “I’m down with whatever, and I trust you both so I’m just…repaving if you will. Layering over the shit with something I actually enjoy. Anything’s good.” He closes his eyes again and leans back into Blanca’s comforting strokes.

“Oh.” Eiji murmurs. It makes a sort of brutal sense, he supposes. “I…then…”

“So guns, bondage, breath play are all fair game,” Blanca says, characteristically composed. “Violence is fine, as long as there is no permanent damage. Humiliation, Eiji?”

Eiji flushes even hotter and nods, eyes back on his clenched fingers.

“Eiji,” Blanca calls.

Eiji doesn’t look up.

“Eiji, come here,” Blanca tries again.

Eiji stands slowly, then circles the coffee table and moves to stand directly in front of Blanca. “Yes, Sir,” he says quietly.

“We aren’t playing right now,” Blanca chides. “Hey. You gotta get out of your head. This is alright, ok? You are doing just fine.”

Eiji nods tightly. “I know,” he says.

“Ash,” Blanca calls, and Ash unfolds, reaching for Eiji.

He stands and draws Eiji close, holding his head between two hands and gazing deep into Eiji’s eyes. “I love you,” he says. “I love you.”

Eiji breathes a sigh of relief, and then Blanca stands, moves behind Eiji and bends down, nuzzling his nose at Eiji’s neck. “You’re beautiful,” he says, then he’s kissing at Eiji’s neck and kissing at his ears, and Ash moves to take his mouth and there is a thrumming, thrilling, electricity that buzzes in the air.

“Do we have a plan?” Blanca whispers.

His breath tickles the hairs at Eiji’s neck.

“Yes,” Eiji says quietly.

“Yes,” Ash says, against Eiji’s lips.

***

It’s like their first time all over again. Eiji cleans, Eiji runs, Eiji reads the same sentence of a book over and over and over. Even Ash seems effected by the tension in the air this time—he paces, and throws himself at his computer, typing frantic notes to himself on potential columns, then he paces again, all the while humming the same three notes at a simply despicable volume.

Eiji throws his book at him once but Ash just glares at him, and goes back to his own motions.

The time ticks by so slowly that Eiji is certain they’ve entered some sort of quantum realm.

“I’ll be there Saturday,” was all Blanca had said, before he left.

It’s surprising what sort of anticipation this timeless answer builds within Eiji. He’s folded deeply into the armchair and every few minutes he has to tell himself to relax, to release all the tension that has built up over a hundred second period and lower his shoulders, unclench his hands, take a deep breath. Six o clock passes, and then seven.

Despite how carefully they’ve planned everything, there is still an impossible uncertainty that taints his breaths. Of course he trusts Blanca and of course he trusts Ash, but he’s still unsure if he trusts himself—

“Boys.”

Eiji yelps, a small thing, but enough to shatter the silence around them. Blanca is standing there, behind the chair, and Eiji hadn’t even heard him come through the door.

“The door,” he manages.

Blanca merely cocks his head. “You think I can’t pick a lock?”

His voice is dangerous. Pitched low. Familiar almost. It takes Eiji a moment, but suddenly a chill runs down his spine.

This is how he spoke with Dino.

Ash pokes his head around the corner, a pencil still hanging jauntily from one ear, his notepad clutched between his fingers. “Oh,” he says. It slips from his lips. He bends down and puts the notepad on the floor, reaching behind his ear and carefully laying the pencil on top. Then he slowly lowers himself to his knees and raises his hands behind his head. “Master,” he whispers.

There is a quaver in his voice. Eiji looks from Blanca to Ash, then back to Blanca. They’ve discussed this and they’ve worked it out and still he has no idea what to do—what is expected of him.

Blanca walks to Ash and puts a hand down on his shoulder. He crouches, then whispers something in his ear, all while staring directly at Eiji. Then,

“Come to the bedroom in ten minutes. Do not even think of entering before that.”

His hand tighens on Ash’s shoulder and Ash rises. Then they disappear down the hallway.

There is something funny happening in Eiji’s gut, something fluttering and wavering and sickly. There’s a whole world of uncertainty, and though he bites his lower lip hard, still the thoughts clatter and press at the inside of his skull.

_“What if this is wrong.”_

_“What if this isn’t what you wanted.”_

_“What if this ruins everything.”_

_“What if Ash gets hurt. What if Blanca gets hurt. What if they see the foulness inside of you and they scream as it leaks from your pores and touches them and burns and burns and burns—”_

He blinks. Two minutes has passed.

He stands and goes to the bookshelf, fingering the spines, feeling the papery creases of love under the pads of his fingers. Pulls out a worn copy of **Middlesex** and flips the pages. There are moments that have been highlighted, some entire pages, some singular lines. He finds one of these and reads,

_“Can you see me? All of me? Probably not. No one ever really has.”_

Something inside him clicks with it, and he understands why the moment meant enough to mar with brightly yellow ink. His hands are shaking, and the pages of the book flutter within them. An invisible nightmare is barely being held at bay.

Somewhere, the ticking of the Dali clock has crescendoed, and it’s suddenly booming in his ears, a firm, unceasing kaddish. It builds and builds and builds and then then he lets out a breath.

Everything stops.

Everything is silent.

The clock reads 8:54 and his time is up.

Eiji slips the book back in its proper place, then walks the hall, alone. Everything in the apartment is quiet save for the gentle falls of his sock feet at the wooden floor. The bedroom door is closed and he considers this for a moment, unsure if he should knock, unsure if he should announce his presence. Finally, he settles on opening the door without fuss.

The first thing he sees is that the curtains are pulled back, and the full sliding glass door to their minuscule balcony is exposed. He can see stars, and they sparkle and shout their brilliance for all the world. There is a slight movement from the corner and he turns.

Ash is there. On his knees. Bound, and gagged, and he’s not making any noise, he’s trying to speak around the thick wad of cloth that’s been shoved in his mouth, but he’s nodding his head in almost a frantic motion and Eiji can’t quite understand why—

He’s hit with an impossible force and just like that he’s on the floor, head ringing and eyes trying to gain focus again. There’s a heavy weight on top of him and he struggles to move but then there is something hard, something cold, something horribly lethal jammed at the small of his neck.

“Don’t move,” Blanca whispers.

Eiji goes completely still. His heart is rabbiting in his throat at the suddenness of it all, and he’s trying desperately to quiet the ragged and harsh breaths that he’s drawing in. He can hear Ash now, whining against the gag, but he can’t see him. All he can see is the clean, white bed skirt, rippling in the cool of the air conditioning. “Blanca,” he tries, but the gun presses harder at the base of his neck.

“Do. Not. Move.” Blanca repeats. Then he reaches out, gently, and brushes a swathe of Eiji’s hair from his cheek. “You look scared, rabbit,” he says, leaning in and licking a stripe from Eij’s neck to his ear.

Eiji shudders. Blanca’s eyes are dark eclipsed moons, and even with light of the stars illuminating the bedroom, he can’t make out the difference between the ring of brown and the black pupil. “I—”

The head of the gun taps twice on his cheek and Eiji winces. “Ah ah,” Blanca says, then presses it back into his neck. “I can feel your heartbeat,” he murmurs, pulling at Eiji’s sweater, baring the skin of his shoulder. Blanca kisses from the base of his neck, out to his shoulder blade, his lips soft against Eiji’s hot flesh. Then suddenly, he bites down, sinking teeth into the curve of his upper arm.

“Oh my…oh my god,” Eiji cries, squeezing his eyes shut. They are already hot, already filling with unshed tears. “Blanca—”

“Get up,” Blanca says. It’s authoritative and it’s not any sort of voice he’s ever used before. Eiji’s terrified that they’ve moved past the agreement, that this is something else, something different, something he needs to break.

 _If at anytime you need to end it, just say red,_ he’d said. _Red…red…red…_

Eiji bites his lip and shakily rises to his knees. His shoulder throbs and there’s a wetness he can feel—saliva, or blood, or both “I’m…” he starts carefully. “Ash?” He looks across at Ash who’s still on his knees, unmoving. Ash stares back, not blinking. There are tear tracks spilling down his cheeks that sparkle in the moonlight. “Blanca, he can’t say anything, Blanca," Eiji's throat is closing and he's getting upset. "He can’t say red if he needs to, he needs—”

“I’m losing patience,” Blanca warns. Then suddenly, he strikes—fists a hand into Eiji’s hair and pulls him sharply back.

Eiji whimpers in pain, and tries to breath, tries to count, tries to breath again. Everything is happening too quickly, and he doesn’t know what he is supposed to do.

“Get up. Strip. Then stand against the door.”

Eiji tries to nod, thankful for instructions, thankful for an order that he can obey, but Blanca’s hand still holds fast in his hair and he can’t move more than an inch. He swallows, and his throat hurts with it. “Yes….Sir…” he tries. His voice sounds hollow and terrified. Not his.

Blanca shoves at him then, and he sprawls forward on his hands and knees. He looks back to Ash for a second, sees the way his throat is bobbing with the need to swallow. Ash looks upset, and looks scared, but he nods ever so slightly.

 _Green then_ , Eiji thinks. _Still green._

He stands shakily, and pulls his sweater off, then his pants, his briefs, his socks. He pauses for a moment, goosebumps flickering over all his skin in the chill of the room, then moves back toward the door.

Blanca holds out an arm, blocking him. “Not that door.”

“I…” Eiji stopped. “The..the glass door?” He asks. He’s shivering now, and his cock hangs, small, limp, useless at his thighs. He shoves his hands in front of himself, suddenly filled with the sensation that he is wrong, that this is bad, that he never should have asked for anything like what is happening.

Blanca cocks the gun.

“Shit, yeah ok,” Eiji said. His brain isn’t working anymore, he doesn’t know what’s happening, he wants to start over, he wants to hold Ash. There’s a throbbing sensation in his groin and with horror he realizes he’s suddenly half hard. He walks to the glass door and stops, turns to face Blanca, tries to ignore the shrieking in his head.

_There are people on the street._

_We live on the eighth floor, it’s going to be fine._

_There are people on the fucking street and you’re naked at the window what is wrong with you._

“Back up, rabbit,” Blanca cooes. “Hands above your head.”

Eiji steps back and feels the chill of the glass at his naked flesh. He slowly raises his hands above his head, then looks away as his cheeks flush in humiliation. He’s completely hard now.

“Looks like you’re enjoying this,” Blanca says. It’s condescending, full of nascent judgement.

Eiji feels tears prick at his eyes, then one falls free, warm against his cheek.

“Hey beautiful,” Blanca said. This has none of the warmth Eiji is used to. None of the care. None of the love.

He taps the gun against Eiji’s cheek again then pushes against Eiji’s mouth. Eiji shoves his head the other way, more tears flowing.

“Open up,” Blanca says. Firmly. Full of power.

Eiji’s breath is coming faster now, he can hear the raggedness in his ears. Ash is still whimpering in the corner, straining against the rope that holds his arms behind his back.

Suddenly Blanca’s free hand is around Eiji’s throat, tightening, cutting off his air. Eiji squirms underneath him, not wanting to give in, desperate for breath, desperate for release. Ash is yelling now, but it’s a garbled thing, fractured syllables scattered helplessly. There is nothing he can do, and this is frightening, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe,

Eiji grabs at the hand around his throat and Blanca brings the gun down hard against his temple.

Suddenly everything is light, everything flashes, everything is an impassible, viscous liquid.

Eiji gasps as Blanca lets him go, and his entire chest rattles and screams at the harshness of the air. “Oh my God,” he heaves, drawing in another shaky breath, voice shivering in fear.

The gun presses at his open mouth and the,n all he can taste was metal, and cold, and death, and it’s cocked, he remembers Blanca cocking it and he doesn’t know if it’s loaded but it’s so heavy against his teeth it might be, and…

He doesn’t want to die this way…

He’s going to throw up…

He’s so hard he wanted to scream with it…

And this last is the most difficult thing to accept. Somewhere, deep down, he’s enjoying this, and the shame of this was almost worse than everything else.

“Oh, Ash!” Blanca calls. “It’s your turn.”

He pulls the gun from Eiji’s mouth and Eiji chokes, drool running down the side of his lips. He sees Ash struggling to stand from the corner of his eye, but he quickly ducks his head down and tries to pull himself together. He wipes at his mouth as he draws in shuddering breaths, and he can’t stop crying now, there’s something broken inside of him and he can’t control it anymore, he can’t stop crying.

“Suck him off,” Blanca says.

Eiji doesn’t move. His shoulders are hitting the glass of the door so forcefully with his shudders that he’s afraid it might break.

“Eiji. Get down on your fucking knees and suck him off.”

Eiji flinches, then drops to his knees. His brain is short circuiting and he no longer knows if he’s obeying the Blanca that he’s in love with or if that is all a dream, that is all something intangible, something masking this nightmare. He inches towards Ash and reaches up with shaking hands.

Ash still has his hands bound behind his back, he’s still gagged, and he’s already hard, leaking, shaking with want.

“Green…” Eiji stutters out, and Ash nods his head, vigorously. He’s moaning now, behind the gag, and Eiji wraps his hands around Ash’s thighs, pulls him close, and swallows him down.

“That’s it, rabbit,” Blanca murmurs.

Ash jerks against Eiji, and he gags for a moment, then catches his breath again, trying to to breath in time with Ash’s thrusts. Blanca moves behind Ash and suddenly the gag is off, and Ash is moaning Eiji’s name over and over and over, peppered with apologies, gasps, heady cries of lust.

Blanca’s behind Eiji again, forcing his head against Ash, and Eiji is gagging again, and again, mouth wet with drool, ears burning, crying yet so, desperate to be touched, to be allowed to cum.

And then, like a prayer, Blanca reaches around and strokes him, licking at his neck, dancing his fingers along sensitive skin, pulling and moving against him and Eiji can’t hold on any longer. He moans around Ash’s cock, crying, spilling, elated and horrified and every emotion is hitting him at the head of every single nerve.

Then Ash jerks against him, again and again and Eiji’s throat keeps swallowing, tasting the bitterness everywhere, feeling it leak from his mouth and stain his chin and drip to the floor beneath and Blanca is holding him and it’s going to be ok, it’s going to be fine,

Everything is going to be alright.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this! Thank you guys for all being such awesome supportive folks! It makes writing this SO MUCH FUN!!!
> 
> I just want to add a few notes on this chapter: Eiji is pretty worked up after the last chapter and while everything was absolutely consensual and planned, he's just experiencing some intense emotions all around. Chapter starts out with some tears and minor panic attack so I've updated the tags accordingly :)

It’s in the comfort of the bathroom that Eiji starts to fall apart.

Ash is there, Ash is washing his hair, washing his body, reaching under his soft cock and washing at his hole, washing everything. He’s so perfectly gentle and so perfectly chaste about it, but Eiji starts to shake, and then, embarrassingly, he starts to cry.

Ash doesn’t notice this at first.

He’s bent down, completely enthralled with his ministrations, and the shower spray is hitting him right at the apex of his shoulder blade, sending a myriad of droplets to cling to his soft, blond hair. 

Eiji puts a fist to his mouth, bites down hard, trying to control the heaving sobs that threaten to break free, but a shuddering gasp takes him by surprise, and at this, Ash looks up.

“Eiji?” Ash says, then stands. “Eiji?”

Eiji’s shaking now, his breathing is getting quicker and every struggle for air is painful. Ash moves towards him but Eiji shakes his head. “No,” he forces out. “Don’t…don’t touch me right now.” His words are flat, and he can see the hurt in Ash’s eyes but he can’t, he can’t be touched, he can’t be here, he’s naked, and he doesn’t know where Blanca is, and he’s terrified, and then the shame blooms within him, coloring the world in humiliated gasps. “Oh my god,” he says. “Oh my god, oh my god—”

“Eiji?” Ash questions again. He reaches his hands out—slowly, without any hint of threat—and turns the knob to the water. “I’m gonna get you a towel now, alright? We need to get you dry.”

Eiji forces himself to nod at that, but he’s still shaking, he’s still biting the fist in his mouth as though that minimal pain will bring him out of this, will bring him back to normal.

He feels the soft fluffiness of a towel wrapped around him, and he clings at it. It’s a light grey color and it smells faintly of detergent, of their detergent, and he remembers standing in the middle of a department store arguing over the blandness of grey, but they’d settled after Eiji let him find blues as well, after they’d built a chromatically pleasing variegation of colors of the sea. “I am cold,” Eiji murmurs. His hair is quickly soaking into the edge of the towel, and it shocks him back to some semblance of normalcy. He tries to breathe—not to deeply, not too quickly—just small, hiccuping gasps. “I am sorry,” he says next.

His muscles are held so tightly within him that it feels almost impossible to move.

“I know, I know,” Ash whispers. “It’s alright. Can I touch you?”

“I don’t know,” Eiji manages. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

The tears start again, but they are gentle now. They are no longer the end of the known universe, they are no longer thick and full of distrust. 

“It’s ok,” Ash whispers. “Your body is just reacting to the stimulus. It’s afraid, it’s terrified, and it wants to run, to hide, to become as small as possible and burrow deep within safety.”

“I asked for it,” Eiji says. He’s staring just past Ash now, tears still pooling in the creases of his eyes before dropping heavily to his nose, to his chin.

“I know you did. You know you did. But your body’s gotta catch up, ok? You need to give yourself some time. Can I touch you?” he asks again, more plaintive this time.

Eiji forces his eyes to Ash’s face—watches the way his jaw is tight with worry, the way his eyes glimmer with so much gentleness, so much love. “Yes,” he whispers.

Ash moves forward then, wrapping his arms around Eiji, wrapping a hand around Eiji’s head and drawing him in even closer. Eiji rests against the curve of Ash’s neck. His arms are straight at his side, his breath is still an unsteady, stumbling sort of thing, but now he can feel the way Ash swallows against his ear and he can smell the scent of Ash and it’s closer to what he knows.

Ash is warm.

Ash is home.

Ash is rubbing a hand at Eiji’s back in small circles, again and again and again.

It seems the sort of motion that might comfort a toddler, and Eiji can feel his cheeks going red with the thought, but he can’t bring himself to pull away. “I am sorry,” he repeats.

“Eiji. You don’t need to be sorry.”

They stay like this for a few moments, letting the steam of the shower dissipate around them, watching the fog at the mirror slowly retreat, two boys in love appearing in its wake. Finally, Eiji begins to relax. His limbs are going weak, his breathing is slowing, the tears are drying, leaving dusty rivets of salt tracks down his cheeks. “Thank you,” he says, at Ash’s throat. Then he pulls back.

“I love you, Eiji,” Ash says.

It is a simple sentence, a statement of intent, but the words are plump with meaning. Eiji leans forward and kisses him at his jawline, feeling the sight prickle of new facial hair at his mouth. “You need to shave,” he says.

“I tell you I love you and all I get is a snide comment about my appearance?” Ash jokes. 

“It burns my mouth and I do not like it,” Eiji remarks. He smiles though, a frightened thing emerging from the dark.

Ash combs his fingers through Eiji’s hair, then kisses him gently, mouth to mouth. “I love you,” he whispers. “I’m gonna go get dressed, then find Blanca, alright? Are you good to get dressed in here?” 

Eiji nods. There is a small pile of his clothing set right on the bathroom sink counter. _Blanca_ he thinks. _Always prepared_. Then, “I think I would like eggs.”

Ash laughs then. “I’ll make sure to tell the chef.” he winks. 

“With peppers?” Eiji calls after him, as he moves to open the bathroom door. “The red ones.”

“Yeah, yeah, princess, I got it!” Ash says, over his shoulder. “Just get dressed.”

The door closes behind him with a muffled thump, and Eiji reaches for his briefs.

***

Ash is typing rapidly on his laptop at the kitchen table when Eiji walks in. Blanca is sitting next to him, sipping a cup of coffee. He looks tired, looks worried, looks far younger than usual. There is a flutter of warning in Eiji’s stomach, but he forces himself through it, forces himself to walk up to Blanca and look down at him. “Hey,” he says. It sounds unsure to his ears. It sounds nothing like someone in control.

“Hey,” Blanca returns. He puts his coffee mug down, then slides back in his chair and turns to face Eiji. “How are you feeling?” 

“Tired,” Eiji admits. “Jumpy. Like there is an electric…buzz…running through my skin. How do you say that word?”

“Current,” Blanca nods. 

“Current,” Eiji repeats. “Yes. I am sorry for the way I reacted.”

Ash looks up at this, the flurry of motion from his fingertips stalled. “Eiji,” he warns.

Blanca holds a hand up, and Ash quiets. “You never need to be sorry,” he says calmly. “We need to be open with each other. I…” he drifts off, then reaches a hand up to Eiji’s face, stopping just shy of touching a fingerpad to Eiji’s lips. “I…”

Eiji can sense his own insecurity and suddenly he’s desperate to be held by those arms again, to be loved, to be cherished, to be safe. He reaches out and takes Blanca’s hand, sets it firmly on his hip, then swings a leg over Blanca, settling himself firmly against him. “Next time no gags.”

“Next time?” Blanca asks.

Eiji nods. “Next time. I need to know that Ash can vocalize a color if need be. So next time no gags.”

Blanca smiles at this. “A good request,” he says. 

His words still sound tight, still sound unsure. “And next time,” Eiji says, “I would like to have more bruises after. You need to hit me harder.”

Blanca laughs then, and relaxes a bit. “You’re quite the little masochist,” he says.

“Maso…kist?” Eiji questions.

“Likes pain,” Blanca murmurs. He blinks, and squirms ever so slightly and Eiji can feel that his cock is growing hard. “Enjoys ahh…humiliation.”

They are face to face and Blanca is watching him with some degree of surprise, and an incredible amount of lust, and Eiji leans forward and kisses him. He fingers through Blanca’s hair, pulling it, angling Blanca just right, and then he’s opening his mouth, kissing him deeper, tasting every bit of him and moaning into it.

Blanca stiffens under him, but only for a brief moment, then he grabs at Eiji’s hips hard, pulls them painfully together and is kissing back just as hard, just as frantic. 

Eiji breaks away from the kiss, but noses at his neck next, then is kissing down his neck, down his shoulder, back to his collarbone, sucking desperate, red welts into his skin. 

“Oh…” Blanca moans under him. “Oh…Eiji….Oh..”

Eiji flicks his eyes to Ash, his mouth still tasting Blanca’s skin, and Ash is watching them with hooded eyes. Eiji lets go, coming off Blanca’s collarbone with a thick pop of sound, and he whispers hoarsly, “I love you, Ash, I love you, I love you , I love you—”

Blanca snags a hand against his cheek and turns him, then, once more their lips meet, hard and wanton with desire. 

There is a shuffle of movement, then Eiji can see Ash out of the corner of his eye, pushing a hand against the golden hairs of his navel, then reaching lower, underneath his briefs and stroking himself.

Blanca is hard also, impossibly large and beautifully desperate, and Eiji begins to rock against him, the thin fabric of his own briefs barely containing his erection. He leans over, tonguing at the shell of Blanca’s ear, then, “Sergei,” he whispers. 

Blanca freezes. 

“Is that alright,” Eiji pants, still rocking, still wanting friction from anywhere. 

“Eiji…” Blanca tries. 

Eiji looks at him then, looks at those deep brown eyes, so filled with lust, so filled with desire, so filled with wonder.

I did that, Eiji thinks. I did that. “Sergei,” he whispers again.

Blanca closes his eyes and moans. “Say it again,” he grinds out. “Say it again, Eiji, oh my God,”

“Sergei,” Eiji calls. The vowels are thick with honey on his tongue. “Sergei, Sergei, Sergei—”

Blanca comes apart. He shudders and then yells with the force of his orgasm and Eiji’s grinding against the wetness as hard as he can. It’s so hot, it’s so incredibly feral, and he reaches a hand down for just a moment, pushing inside Blanca’s pants and bringing back fingers covered with sticky cum. Then he grabs Blanca’s hair, forcing his eyes open, and he licks his fingers, swallowing them, sucking at them. 

Blanca moans louder, and then Eiji’s coming against his chest, hot liquid seeping through his briefs.

He can hear Ash behind them, the sound of his hand against his erect cock, and the groaning, choked sounds of his pleasure.

Blanca’s gasping against Eiji, but still he manages to call out to Ash. “Come for us,” he says, his voice deep with sex. “Fucking come, Ash. Fucking come, you’re so close—”

Ash jerks, then he’s coming, filling his hand, spurting across the table. “Holy fuck,” he cries, shuddering against his chair. “Holy fuck, guys…holy fucking—”

“Language, Ash,” Eiji calls primly. He’s warm. He’s smiling. He is everything.

“Oh fuck you,” Ash says. His eyes are closed. His face is blissful and blank.

“I love you,” Eiji says. Then turning to Blanca, “I love you.”

Blanca sighs underneath him, and goes limp with satiation. 

“Fuck,” Ash says. 

Eiji looks over at him again.

“The fucking eggs are burning.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....this is the penultimate chapter?!? I just want to thank you guys SO MUCH for reading this and being so incredibly positive. It's been a joy to write this!

Blanca leaves for a business trip the next Tuesday and Eiji is surprised by the sudden emptiness that pushes at his chest. He hadn’t realized how much a space Blanca was occupying, and he says as much to Ash on their morning jog.

“Yeah,” Ash says. “He’s a shady fucker. Kinda like a cockroach—crawls in and makes himself at home, then is fucking impossible to kill.” He says this with a lilt in his voice though, a sort of wistfulness that accompanies the soft breeze around them with a beautifully languid motion.

“Shady…fucker…” Eiji repeats slowly. Then, “Ashu!” He steps directly in Ash’s path, shouldering him to the side and laughing as Ash stumbles over his feet and falls behind.

“Hey!” Ash yells, then sprints to catch up again. “Speaking of shady fuckers…”

They continue on in silence for a while then. Eiji revels in the warmth of the summer air at his cheeks, the way his sweat dries to his lips and leaves a salty residue, the way Ash’s golden hair glows, brilliant in the sunlight. He listens to the way his tennis shoes fall on the pavement below—a thump, thump, thumping of muffled beat. He breaths in the air, delights in the way it travels down his windpipe and he imagines feeling it spread throughout his body, gliding into his bloodstream and pumping life into his extremities.

“I have had a thought,” he finally pants.

“He speaks,” Ash shouts.

Eiji scowled. Ash has the nerve to smile at him, he has the nerve to speak normally, to be not in the least bit worn from the run. “You should not be this much better than I am at running,” Eiji says. “I am the athlete. I should not have to work so hard to catch you.” He wrinkles his nose, and then pushes himself harder as they round the corner into their neighborhood.

“Well,” Ash says, with a flick of his head. “I have much longer legs you see. And grace. And a subtle talent for all…things.”

“Shady fucker,” Eiji replies.

Ash bursts with laughter.

They fall silent then, legs pumping in furious motion as they pick up speed, trying to outdistance one another in the daily battle to see who might reach the apartment first. 

Eiji does, this time, though he suspects Ash was holding back. He leans forward on his knees, panting heavily for a moment, then bends a knee behind him, holding steady and counting fastidiously.

Ash throws himself on the concrete steps leading up to their apartment—a move full of indolence.

“You should stretch,” Eiji intones. “You will cramp.”

“Naa,” Ash says. “I’m good.”

“You are the worst,” Eiji says. Then, “So, I have had a thought.”

“Mmm,” Ash murmurs. “I thought we’d covered that. Something about how I’m a far more accomplished athlete than you could ever hope to be.” 

Eiji shoves in beside him and grunts. “No. Something more.”

Ash turns to look at him. The sunlight spills across his features, softening them, making him appear more boyish, more carefree, as if he were something delightfully new.

“I would like to ask Blanca to move in with us.” Eiji is surprised by how steady his voice is. How the beating of his heart in his ears is an incandescent thing, ready to catch fire.

Ash doesn’t say anything. He leans back on his elbows and looks towards the sky.

Eiji tries to follow his gaze, but settles on the uppermost branches of the large oak tree that stands outside their apartment. The leaves are already starting to turn, the slightest brush of yellow upon them, despite the fact that it is still only July. He swallows. “Ash?”

Ash picks a helicopter seedling from the step and holds it out, then let’s go, watching it twirl and dance down to the sidewalk. “We’ll need to look for a bigger place.”

***

Saturday comes upon them quickly, and the aching emptiness in Eiji’s chest intensifies. He’s unfamiliar with this feeling. With Ash, it was always a fiery thing, a burning, desperate desire that was impossible to quench. With Blanca, it’s soft. Delicate. An unassuming pressure that’s constancy is not easily ignored. 

Ash is working overtime on a news article, and so Eiji is left alone, unsettled, trying to gather the tangle of thoughts thats bursting from his head. Blanca is due to Skype in that evening, something that Eiji’s been looking forward to all week, and so he cleans, and cooks, and organizes, and puts on the musical soundtracks that he so adores and that Ash can’t stand, and sings at the top of his lungs. 

“Andrew Lloyd Webber is a god damned devil,” he’d said one afternoon.

Eiji had only stuck out his tongue and sung louder. 

When the call finally comes, Eiji runs to the living room where the laptop is setup and waiting. He combs a hand through his hair, silently berates himself for his ridiculousness, then answers.

“Eiji!” Blanca says with a smile.

Blanca looks tanner in the laptop screen. He looks happy. The lines of his jaw cut sharply down and Eiji blinks away a shiver of lust. “We have missed you!” he says cheerfully.

“Eh, you’re not missing much,” Blanca replies. “Just a lot of busy work. I’m sorry to be missing my weekly appointment with my boys.” He licks his upper lip as he says this, narrows his eyes.

Eiji squirms. 

“Where’s Ash at?” Blanca asks.

Eiji shrugs. “He should be home soon. The paper has been keeping him late all week to work on a story.”

“Are you lonely?” Blanca questions.

There is something about his voice that fills Eiji with wonder. He knows that he is capable of being a normal, high functioning human being who makes capable, high functioning decisions, but the moment Blanca enters the picture he just wants to curl his head and tuck himself into those arms, let Blanca hold him, let him choose everything, let praise him and desire him and want him—

He’s hard. He squirms awkwardly on the couch again, trying to ignore the way his cock is pressing against his thigh, but he can already feel his face flushing.

“Eiji?” Blanca asks again. “Are you alright?”

“Fine!” Eiji squeaks. “Good. I’m fine. Ash will be here soon.”

“Good,” Blanca nods. “But right now I’m talking to you. I’ve missed you. I can’t wait to hold you again. To touch you.”

The way Blanca opens his mouth and tongues at the word _touch_ makes Eiji flinch with desire.

“Eiji,” Blanca calls. Slowly. Dripping with a thickness of desire. “Eiji…I need you to take off your shirt. Can you do that for me?”

Eiji blinks, the flush rising to the tips of his ears, the bridge of his nose. His whole face is on fire. “I…” he mumbles, but his hands are already working at the cotton t-shirt, dragging it over his head, and tossing it casually to the floor. 

“Good,” Blanca says. “Touch yourself for me. Start at your neck.”

Eiji slowly raises a hand to the curve of his neck, lets the pads of his fingers stroke down, to his chest, hovering for a moment, then reaching downward.

“Not yet,” Blanca says.

Eiji freezes. 

“Back up. I want you to start at your ears, press down, be gentle, be slow.”

His voice is hypnotic and Eiji closes his eyes, letting his fingers dance over sensitive skin. 

“Good,” Blanca says. “But keep your eyes open. Watch me.”

Eiji obeys. Blanca is slowly unbuttoning his shirt, popping the buttons out of their enclosures one by one by one. Eiji watches his hands, watches the thickness of his hands, remembers the taste of those fingers in his mouth. He whimpers then, a quiet, mewling thing.

“Oh, Eiji,” Blanca sighs. “Unbutton your pants for me. Slowly.”

Eiji lets his hands drop, lingering for a moment at his navel, letting his fingers trace circular patterns there releasing a delicious flutter of energy to his groin. Then he unbuttons, unzips, quietly wriggles out of his pants.

Blanca is standing, stripping his own pants off, and Eiji watches as he sits back down, watches as the muscles in his thighs ripple with movement, as his hand begins to palm at his erection, still trapped behind a small pair of black briefs.

“Underwear off,” Blanca says. 

His voice is slightly higher now, slightly off-center. Eiji strips off his own briefs while Blanca strokes up and down his chest, his eyes closed, moaning for just a moment.

Then his eyes snap back open, pupils blown with lust. “Fingers in your mouth, Eiji,” he says. “Make them wet for me.”

Eiji tongues his pointer finger, then inserts the middle, the ring, the pinky. He’s sucking so hard and he so desperately wishes Ash were here, so he could trace wet patterns into his naked flesh, so he could wrap his lips around his hard cock.

“Fuck, Eiji,” Blanca says. “Alright, touch yourself. Wrap your hand around your cock and let it slide up and down for me. I want to hear it. I want to hear the wetness of your fingers.” 

He’s still palming at his erection through the cotton of his briefs and Eiji so desperately wants to beg him to release it, wants to see the smoothness of his cut cock, watch the precome bead at the tip. Instead, he begins to stroke himself, close enough to the computer screen that the thick, wet, sound of his saliva coated fingers travels through the speakers. “Oh…” he moans. His other hand travels up to graze a nipple, to brush against the sensitive skin at his collarbone.

The door to the apartment swings open, and then quickly closed.

“Well now. What do we have here,” Ash calls, a mocking, lilting tilt to his voice.

He moves towards them, but Eiji’s too far gone to care, he’s pumping harder now, so close to coming, wanting that release, wanting—

“Oh no you don’t,” Ash whispers in his ear, then presses a hand down on top of Eiji’s, on top of his painfully hard cock.

Eiji freezes.

“Heya, Sergei,” Ash calls, waving at the screen.

Blanca’s still fondling himself, but it’s slower now, and a grin spreads across his face. “Hey, beautiful,” he calls. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”

Ash smiles, a dangerous thing, and he tosses his bag to the couch, and pulls off his shirt and pants.

“Kneel down,” Blanca commands.

“No.” Eiji says. 

Ash looks at him in surprise, and Blanca says, “Oh?”

“Let me,” Eiji says. “Please, Sir, let me taste him. Let me suck him off. I need to, I need it, I—”

“Fuck, Eiji,” Ash groans. “Yes, fuck, I don’t care what he says, fuck—”

“Oh my God,” Blanca murmurs, cutting him off. “Fuck, Eiji, you’re perfect, yes, yes, get on your knees. Let me watch you, take him in your mouth but I want to hear you stroking yourself still, I want you to come for me.”

Ash is already so hard, so impatiently needy, and Eiji takes him with a swallow. Ash pumps against him once, unable to control himself, and Eiji lets out a wanton moan around his cock, spit dribbling down his chin. His hand around his cock is moving faster and faster and he knows he’s going to come, he knows he can’t take anymore.

He can just barely see the screen, just barely sees Blanca finally take his dick out. Blanca throws himself back on the couch and he’s stroking himself so fast, he’s groaning, and making the most painfully lewd sounds and Eiji loses it, he cums all over the floor, spurting out from his hand, and it doesn’t stop, it’s coming in waves. He jerks with it, against Ash, again and again, and Ash fists his hands through Eiji’s hair and begins to pump at his mouth with desperate force. 

“Eiji,” he calls. “Eiji, Eiji, fuck, Eiji,” and then he’s coming down Eiji’s throat.

It’s thick, and bitter, and absolutely everything. Eiji swallows it down, still licking at Ash’s cock, refusing to let go, and then he watches Blanca shudder in the screen. He sees a thick spill of white from his fist, then another, and another, and Eiji finally falls back on his knees, wiping his hand at his mouth.

Ash falls to the ground, panting, moaning.

“Blanca?” Eiji questions quietly.

“You are so fucking perfect,” Blanca says. He’s still leaning back, eyes closed, face flushed with lust and a ridiculous grin painting his face. “Both of you. So fucking perfect.”

Ash leans against the coffee table, where the laptop is perched. “We have something we want to ask you,” he says.

“Right,” Eiji says. His voice is wrecked. His throat is sore, and there is a glowing ember of happiness deep within his chest that struggles to burst into flame.

“The last time you said that,” Blanca smirks, “It about killed me.”

“You don’t look all that dead,” Ash retorts.

“No,” Blanca says. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

“Would you,” Ash starts, then looks at Eiji for support.

“Would you want to move in with us?” Eiji asks.

And Blanca begins to smile.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****
> 
> **I just want to take a moment to thank all of you who have read this and encouraged me and been so supportive of my (now) favorite threesome in the whole entire universe. This started as a fun porn prompt, but I just grew to love them so much.**
> 
> ****
> 
> **I so appreciate all of your comments and kudos.**
> 
> ****
> 
> **The absolutely incredible art at the end of this chapter was art that I was so lucky to be able to commission from Iru. Please give them a follow on[Twitter](https://twitter.com/iruutciv)  
>  \--you won’t be sorry!**

“Hmmm,” Ash said, scrunching his nose and holding the paper closer to his face. “There’s a nice looking three bedroom for just under $700k. But it’s in Queens.”

“You need your glasses,” Eiji chides. Then, with a squeak, “$700…thousand?”

Ash looks up and eyes him. “How much, exactly, do you think our condo cost?”

“Erm…” Eiji looks to his feet, noting the small white scuff marks on the hardwood floor that his shoes have just left with some amount of displeasure. “I guess…I don’t know?”

“Hmph,” Ash snorts. “Go back to the kitchen, housewife. Let your husband take care of the finances.”

Eiji slips out of his shoes, walks smoothly forward in his sock feet, not leaving a single scuff mark, then smacks the back of Ash’s head with the heel of one of the sneakers. “You,” he said primly, “are the worst.”

“Me?” Ash shoutes with disbelief. “You just hit me with a dirty shoe!” He tosses the classifieds aside and leaps out of his chair.

Eiji has already taken off, running down the hallway to the bedroom, ready to slam the door shut behind him, but Ash gets there first, barreling his way through and launching himself into Eiji. They end in a tangle of limbs on the floor, just shy of the beautifully soft, queen bed. “Ow!” Eiji complains, as his head smacks to the hard floor. “You, you…ow!” he shouts again, as Ash fists a hand through Eiji’s long black hair and yanks his head to the side.

Ash bends over him, breath coming hot at Eiji’s neck. “Apologize, housewife,” he says with a grin.

“Get off of me you giant, good-for-nothing, animal!” Eiji shouts, wriggling underneath him.

Ash slams his head back to the floor again—not violent, but serious, enough to make Eiji flinch. “Apologize,” he says again, then he licks a stripe up Eiji’s neck.

“Ash!” Eiji yelps, wriggling even more.

“Eiji…” Ash whispers, then starts sucking at his neck.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Eiji peers around Ash’s body to see Blanca standing in the doorway—suitcoat on, shoes brilliantly shined. Ash leans up then, still sitting on Eiji’s hips, still holding Eiji down by his hair. “Ah, the man of the hour,” he says, wiping a hand across his lips.

Blanca just leans there, smiling. “Ash, get off of me,” Eiji mutters. Ash grinds forward with his hips, and Eiji squints his eyes closed. “Ash—”

“Missed you, Daddy,” Ash interrups, tone sarcastic and playful.

Blanca groaned in irritation at the use of adage, then steps forward and squats down near Eiji’s head. He reaches out a hand and taps Ash’s. “Not your Daddy, boy,” he says.

Ash immediately lets go of Eiji’s hair, drawing back, and Blanca leans forward and kisses him.

Eiji can feel the way Ash leans into it—he can almost taste the desire rolling off of Ash’s body, and he can feel the small gasp Ash makes as Blanca pulls back. Then Blanca moves to his knees, and kneels forward, brushing the hair from Eiji’s face and kissing him as well—soft, and velvety, and perfect.

He draws back after this, stands and then sits on the bed staring down at the two of them. “I bought a condo,” he says.

“What?” Ash erupts, at the same time as Eiji says, more pleasantly, “You did?”

“Yes,” Blanca says. “It’s small. It’s clean. The previous owner had three cats but they’re replacing the carpets. It’s quite nice really.”

“Blanca,” Ash growls. He sits up and crawls off of Eiji, standing to lean against the dresser. “Was it one of the ones we looked at? One of the ones we agreed on?”

“Nope,” Blanca says.

Eiji studies Blanca’s face. He’s wearing his glasses, his hair pulled back, but small pieces are escaping and framing his face, making him look soft, making him look incredibly gorgeous. A thrill of heat runs down Eiji’s stomach to his groin and he closes his eyes against it.

“Blanca,” Ash starts again.

“I believe it’s Master,” Blanca retorts playfully.

“Only when I like you,” Ash mutters.

“It’s a lovely one bedroom condo,” Blanca says.

They both look at him with confusion.

“One floor below this one, actually,” he continues. “Rather nice. Good view of the…well….street.”

Ash presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Blanca,” he tries. “It’s…It’s…”

Eiji has a feeling Ash is struggling with emotion. He can almost see the ghost of words play at his mouth. It’s perfect.

Instead, Ash says, “how did you pay for it?”

Eiji almost laughs at the way Blanca’s head turns, incredulous and quick. “I’m sorry, but why exactly would you think that was a problem for me?”

Ash shrugs. “You don’t work much. I dunno. Figured you blew it all in the Caribbean.” He smiles at this, a childish, demonic grin.

“Children these days,” Blanca huffs. “No respect for their elders. Am I right, Eiji?”

Eiji looks at them both from his place on the floor. To his view, Blanca is upside down. Ash looks taller than ever, towering over them both, jade eyes sparkling in the sunlight that crept through the windows. “Exactly downstairs,” he murmurs.

Blanca and Ash look at him.

“So we can stay here then?” Eiji asks Blanca.

Blanca nods. “Right. You seemed happy. And I do enjoy being alone from time to time.”

“It’s when he fucks his other whores,” Ash whispers conspiratorially to Eiji.

Eiji just reached his hands behind his head and watchs the sunlight wiggle into patterns on the ceiling. “I think it’s perfect,” he says.

And it is.

***

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Ash and Blanca are both at the kitchen table, drinking tea, reading newspapers like stodgy old men, and looking for all the world as though they’ve both been transported into the condo from a completely different decade—Ash from the 80s with his torn jeans and his flannel shirt, and Blanca from the 20s; complete with loafers, dress pants, and a vest.

“Hi,” Eiji says, his face starting to flush hot. He hadn’t expected them home yet. He’d thought they were out for one of their Sunday morning strolls.

Ash sets down his paper first and eyes Eiji predatorily. “Whatcha got there, Eiji?” he asks, a smirk playing at his lips.

“I just…I made a stop. At a store,” Eiji answers. His ears are burning.

“Ah,” Ash says, smirk growing. “You made a stop. At a store?”

Blanca looks up now, curious, his glasses perched at the tip of his nose.

“I had a few things I wanted to pick up,” Eiji says.

“A few things you wanted to pick up,” Ash repeats.

Eiji shrugs, then huffs in annoyance, placing the bag on the table for all to see. The Pleasure Chest, it reads. Dark pink, loopy writing, on solid black.

“Oh my!” Ash says, raising a hand to his mouth and feigning horror. “And on a Sunday, too!”

“You were supposed to be out still,” Eiji grumbles.

Blanca chooses that moment to set his paper down. “Oh?” he asks. “And am I to take it that whatever is in that bag is solely for your personal use?”

Eiji’s face is so hot now that he’s certain he looks ridiculous. “No!” he shouts. Then, “I don’t know! No…I just…I thought I’d…ugh!” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air, and stomping to the sink.

“Get me a glass while your at it,” Ash calls after him.

Eiji flips up his middle finger in a fantastically American gesture. “You are the one who gave me the list, Ashu,” he growls, filling his cup at the sink and drinking it down in one, long gulp.

“Oh?” Blanca says again. “A list now?”

“Oh stop acting all innocent,” Eiji says. “You may as well open it. It’s for you.”

“Fascinating,” Blanca retorts drily, but the ghost of a smile plays at his lips. He reaches across the table for the bag.

“It’s not much,” Ash says, without a care in the world. “Mostly I just thought it would be fun to make Eiji go into a sex shop by himself.”

Eiji sets the second glass of water down by the sink, and walks to the table. “Mostly,” he replies, “You are an asshole.”

“Water?” Ash asks.

Eiji motions towards the sink. “Get it yourself. Asshole.”

Blanca’s pulling out a small box and holding it close to his eyes. “Interesting,” he says.

“Put your glasses on, Gramps,” Ash calls.

Blanca looks up. “If you aren’t careful, I’m going to lock you up in these and leave for the day. Baby boy.”

His inflection on the words make it clear that he’s joking, but still there is a hint of a threat underneath. Ash rolls his eyes, then sits back in his chair, looking at Eiji, watching Eiji, waiting for Eiji.

Eiji sighs. “They are for you,” he says quietly.

Blanca sets the box down. “You intend to restrain me?”

Eiji nods—a small thing, nervous and anticipatory. “I want to…we—” he gestures to Ash who’s lounging back, acting as though a box of leather bondage cuffs for hands and feet sitting at the dining room table is the most reasonable and acceptable thing in the universe. “We wanted to thank you. We are excited that you are moving so close and…” he shrugs, nervously. No matter how long he knows Blanca, no matter how many times he’s been a drooling, desperate, naked mess at Blanca’s feet, he still feels butterflies of nerves fluttering in his gut when he looks into those deep brown eyes. “Only if you want to, that is,” he finishes, looking at his feet.

“Interesting,” Blanca says. He pushes his hand back into the bag and draws out a second container. “And this?”

He holds up a very large bottle of vanilla flavored lube.

“That,” Ash finally speaks, turning his head to Eiji, “was decidedly not on the list I gave you.”

Eiji flushes even redder, the heat spreading further and further, and he reaches up and itches his neck. “No,” he says quietly. “I just wanted it.”

“Vanilla?” Ash asks in mock outrage.

“I like sweet,” Eiji says. “And you are a very bitter thing.” Then he sticks out his tongue.

Blanca holds up a hand, silencing them. “If I may interrupt your delightful squabbling,” he says, grin growing wider on his face. “When, exactly did you hope to put these to use?”

Ash puts a foot up against the lip of the table and throws his hands behind his head, rocking on the back two legs of the chair and grinning like a very pleased, very delighted lynx. “Eiji?” he asks.

“Now,” Eiji says. He tucks a stray hair behind his ear. “Now would be lovely.”

***

They make Blanca strip first. Slowly, on command, as both Ash and Eiji sit on the bed watching. Eiji’s about to go crazy with want. He’s been half hard since Blanca nodded his assent in the kitchen and now he wants to groan with the pressure.

Blanca lays on his back on the bed sheet, spreading his legs, and spreading his arms above his head. Ash works at securing his feet with the new leather cuffs, and Eiji works at his hands. He catches Blanca’s eyes a few times as he moves around him. Blanca is watching him with pure, unadulterated lust, and Eiji can’t take it anymore, he bends and kisses Blanca deeply, pushing his tongue in, wrapping a hand around Blanca’s neck, and tasting as much of him as he can.

“Eiji,” Ash calls.

Eiji comes away from the kiss with a groan, wanting more, wanting everything. Blanca has his eyes closed now, and his mouth is open just slightly. Eiji can see the movement of his lips as he softly pants.

Eiji reaches a finger then, brushes the pad of it against the softness of Blanca’s mouth, then he turns back to Ash. “Yeah?”

Ash holds up both hands. “Finished. What’s next?”

Eiji falls back on his knees, kneeling next to Blanca’s head. He reaches a hand down and strokes Blanca’s hair in soothing motions. “You,” he says quietly, but with authority, with presence. “Your turn.”

Ash nods, and quickly shucks off his t-shirt.

“Slower,” Eiji commands, then he tucks his free hand against the straining cloth at his erection, palms his hard length through his pants. “Slower.” He moans it this time.

Ash obeys silently, carefully unbuttoning his jeans and stepping out of them, then pressing a hand against the flatness of his belly and pushing down underneath the waistband of his briefs.

Eiji can see the curl of his fingers as he touches himself, and he watches Ash tilt his head back with the smallest gasp of sound, watches the way his Adam’s apple moves at his throat with every swallow.

He looks down to Blanca. His eyes are still closed, but his cock is hard and erect, waiting. Eiji moves from the bed and takes off his own shirt and slips from his pants and briefs. He is quiet about it, painfully earnest as he folds each item of clothing and places it on the chair next to the bed. Then he takes the new bottle of lube from the dresser top, climbs back onto the mattress and swings a leg over Blanca, sitting on the tops of his thighs, letting their erections touch. “Move to where I can see you,” he says to Ash.

Ash obeys, stepping over to the side of the bed and leaning against the dresser, hand still wrapped around his length, still moving slowly. He’s watching Eiji now—pupils blown.

“That’s it,” Eiji says, then he rocks forward gently on Blanca.

Blanca groans, and his eyes come open. His hands are already straining at the leather cuffs. “Touch me?” he asks.

His voice is rough, it is pleading. Eiji rarely sees this side of him and he loves it more than anything. “Not yet,” he chides, then tips the bottle of lube over Blanca’s chest, watching as it curves and puddles at the dip of his navel. Then, he places a hand down, pressing into flesh, sliding it up and down Blanca’s skin, teasing around his nipples. Then he lets his fingers trail back down, to the dark patch of hair that starts at his belly button and travels down. Eiji traces the lines of his hips, traces the outline of his thighs, draws curling patterns against his muscle, then brings his hand back, stroking once on his own cock. “Oh,” he lets slip from his lips.

“Eiji,” Blanca whispers. “Eiji, please—”

“Already begging?” Eiji chides. He bends down and licks a stripe up Blanca’s chest, tasting the sugary sweetness of the vanilla. Blanca’s cock is hard against Eiji’s chest, but he’s careful not to touch more than is necessary. He kisses up Blanca’s neck then, sucking and licking and stops only at Blanca’s ear, where he licks at the shell of it before coming away. “Ash,” he calls.

“Mmm,” Ash moans in response.

Eiji turns to look and Ash has his cock out in his hand now, hard and already wet with precome. “Your turn,” Eiji says.

Ash steps from his briefs, then crawls on the bed. He grabs for the bottle of lube, pours a small amount in the open palm of his hand. Then he places his free hand on Blanca’s chest and hunches over, reaching back and working himself open. He moans as he does this and Eiji has to press his eyes closed because he’s already so close and nothing has happened. Eiji takes a few deep breaths as Ash continues his ministrations, and then he swings a leg back over from Blanca’s body and curls up in the small space next to him. “I love you,” he whispers in Blanca’s ear.

Blanca’s eyes shoot open. He turns his head to the side as best he can and studies Eiji. Finally, he opens his mouth, then closes it again. A flicker of uncertainty crosses his face.

Eiji nods and touches a finger to his lips again. “You don’t have to say it back,” he whispers. “But I love you.”

There is a burning flame within him that has burst to life. There is sunlight. There is warmth. There is a thrumbing of tension as though a string has been plucked and the entire room shivers in a burst of emotion. _This is right. This is right,_ Eiji wants to say. _This is right, this is right, this is right._

Ash situates himself above Blanca then, using one hand to guide Blanca’s cock to his wet hole, and then he carefully lowers himself. Slowly, beautifully, Blanca’s erection is swallowed whole by Ash, and then Ash starts to move.

He is beautiful. His blond hair glints in the dusky setting sun and his face is so perfectly exquisite. His eyes are pressed closed, but his mouth is open, and Eiji can hear the little mewls of pleasure that escape.

Blanca throws his head back, and he moans, long and loud and full of emotion.

Eiji shivers with it, then he sits up, crawls back atop Blanca but this time in reverse—this time, holding himself up with his thighs, this time facing Ash. Ash is rocking a bit faster now, and Eiji reaches out, pulling him close, kissing him deeply, and then he wraps a hand around Ash’s erection and starts to move.

“Oh fuck,” Ash lets out, and he clenches his teeth.

Eiji kisses him, pressing their lips together in furious desperation.

“Oh my god,” Blanca says. “Oh my god, Ash, oh god, Eiji I can’t hold it—”

“Wait,” Eiji says against Ash’s lips.

Blanca is gasping behind him. “Eiji…” he tries. “Eiji, I—”

“Wait,” Eiji commands. His hand is moving at Ash’s cock faster now, and then Ash cries out, spilling over Eiji’s fist, spilling onto the firm dip of Blanca’s navel.

“Ohhh,” Ash shudders against Eiji, and Eiji keeps pumping him through it, watching each spurt of come cover his hand.

“Eiji!” Blanca groans.

“Wait,” Eiji says again. Ash is moving faster now, still groaning with his own orgasm. Eiji watches the way his thighs flex in movement, feels the way his heart beats against Eiji’s chest. Eiji reaches down then and finally touches himself, finally wraps his hand around his own cock and starts to pull, using Ash’s come as lubricant. It feels so good. It feels impossible, the tension and the want and he’s gritting his teeth when Blanca cries out behind him jerking once and going rigid underneath him.

Eiji comes apart.

His orgasm hits and suddenly he’s coming all over Ash’s chest, wet and hot, and sublime.

“Oh god,” he says once, jerking with it. “Oh my god.”

Ash stills underneath him and they sit like this just a moment, Eiji chasing Ash’s lips for another deep kiss, before he’s climbing off and tucking himself back into that spot beside Blanca’s head. “Oh god,” he says again. The very air around him seems to buzz, seems to hum in anticipation. “I love you,” he whispers once more, and it’s to Ash, and it’s to Blanca, and it’s to them.

He watches as Ash bends forward, kissing Blanca once, then stroking a finger up his own chest, catching Eiji’s come. He licks his finger then, and moans with it.

Eiji loves him so much he could burst with it.

Then Ash comes off of Blanca with a wet pop of noise, and he grins, almost apologetic, a boy again. He falls to the otherside of Blanca, and tucks himself in there.

Blanca’s chest is still wet with lube, and they all smell of come and of sex and of debauchery, and Eiji is happy.

He’s full of flight.

He’s full of sunlight.

He’s full of the sparkle of the nighttime sky.

He reaches up just long enough to unclasp Blanca’s left hand, and Ash does the same for the right. Then they lay for long minutes in silence.

And soon they might shower.

And soon they might redress.

And soon they might make their way to the living room. Blanca will sit in the armchair by the fireplace. Ash will sit at his feet, a book in his hands.

And Eiji will watch over them and know that though there are butterflies still beating at his chest, his heart is full of stars.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/agentcoop1)  
> 


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